The Cure for Boredom
by SweetChi
Summary: Buffy and boredom are non-mixy. So when she finds herself voodooed into a world where vampires are accepted and nothing like she's used to, what else is there to do but investigate?
1. Chapter 1

Timeline - After BtVS S7 and around the first and second SVM books.

Disclaimer - I own nothing, am making no money from this and am doing it purely for enjoyment.

**The Cure for Boredom**

**Chapter One**

"'Don't worry about it, Buffster. The girls have everything covered'," Buffy mocked Xander's cheerful voice as she strode through the cemetery. "'Yeah, B. You're still in New York right? Why don't you find you a hot Wall Street type to take the edge off'," she went on, repeating Faith's words this time as she settled into full out pout-mode.

Actually, she _wasn't _in New York, and the fact that no one knew that seemed to just enforce her new status as a nonentity.

Why did Faith still get to be part of the action while Buffy was bound for the Slayer Retirement Home? Because Faith went evil and had redemption to work for? Maybe she should go evil too, if that's what it took to get any action these days. And, boy, did that come out wrong - or maybe not so wrong, or maybe just wrong and true. But that was a whole different set of issues.

In all honesty, life since the Hellmouth closed and the other Slayers came out had been boring. Here was Buffy's chance to have that normal life she'd always wished for and nothing could be more unappealing. The others seemed to think she needed that normality now though, and kept trying to shove peace and quiet down her throat. There were Slayers all over, Hellmouths were covered, the new Council was up and running. Complete organization. Nothing for her to do. And to make matters worse, it seemed like her friends had all found a niche - she was the only one floundering.

Willow was in South America, still with Kennedy and busy doing all those big witchy things Buffy knew nothing about. Xander was heading up Ops from Slayer central in Scotland, finally putting all that soldiery knowledge to good use. Giles was there too, big wigging it as the head of the Watchers - making sure none of them got out of line and started with the old Council crap. Dawn was going to school in Rome, living with her boyfriend. Buffy talked to her about once a week, but hadn't seen her in months - didn't want to taint her sisters new happy, normal, monster free life.

Buffy just felt kind of… left behind. Out of place. She'd told them all she was just traveling, "enjoying her new freedom". When in fact she was just roaming from one place to the next, looking for things that needed slaying. It was pretty sad.

"Used to save the world, now I'm on lame voodoo hunts and talking to myself," she mumbled, still scanning the seemingly unending cemetery.

She wasn't even hunting a demon, just some crazy chick. Hell, she didn't even know that the crazy chick was up to anything! All she knew was the local voodoo…ites? Voodooese? Voodians? Whatever. The other voodoo people in town were worried about what this person was up to, and Buffy, being pathetically bored, had decided to check it out. When she'd finally tracked her down, the woman, Mary or Marie or Marty, had taken one look at Buffy, made some weird sign with her hands, yelled something in French and taken off like the hounds of hell were on her tail. Buffy had gaped at her for a minute before following.

So that led to now - where crazy-pathetic-talking-to-herself-Buffy was looking for crazy-chicken feet-wearing-voodoo-chick in the cemetery, or "City of the Dead", as they liked to call it down here in New Orleans (which, wow, creepy visual).

A sound carried in on the light breeze pulled her from her self-pity. She stopped and cocked her head, listening for it again. There! Sounded like… chanting. Buffy almost groaned out loud - chanting in a cemetery never led to anything good. Following the sound, she came over a slight hill and stood looking down at the voodoo lady. She was doing a little dance around some circle that might or might-not have been drawn in blood. Random items that looked suspiciously like bones were scattered around its perimeter.

The woman - tall, dark skinned and looking to be in her late thirties - stopped what she was doing when she spotted Buffy. Her chanting cut off abruptly and she ended her hokey-pokey like movements, leaving only the sound of her numerous necklaces clinking together to fill the air between them. They studied each other tensely for a moment before she finally spoke.

"It is too late," she said with a heavy accent and a cocky smirk as she watched Buffy approach.

"Yeah, heard that one before. There's no tentacles shooting out of the ground and nothing's exploded, so I'm going to put this one in the 'not too late' column."

Buffy held her position across from her, not willing to step into the circle. She had a sudden vision of her chasing the woman around the circle like she used to chase Dawn around the dining room table when she stole her favorite earrings. Wouldn't that just make the night even better?

"Listen lady," Buffy said, trying to keep the exasperation out of her voice. "I don't know what you're doing, but I'm going to go out on a limb and say its of the bad. Whatever you're trying to gain here, it won't be worth it, I promise."

"You know nothing," the woman sneered. "I will be the strongest priestess that ever lived."

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure whatever told you that is lying."

"Nothing told me that, silly girl. I am not some amateur making deals with lowly demons," she said, untying a pouch from around her wrist and smirking at Buffy's surprise. "Yes, I know what you are. All things of the night are known to me. I am Marie Laveau, daughter of-"

"I really don't care," Buffy interrupted with an eye roll. As she got older she found her patience for pompous speeches had dwindled to nil. "What's the what with all this then if you're not getting all demon summon-y?"

The woman huffed, obviously annoyed at having been interrupted. "I will be taking the powers my other self possesses."

"Your other self?"

"There are many worlds, some of them have another version of ourselves. I have pinpointed one such world and will be taking my counterparts power as my own."

"Well, that's kinda crappy. What about the other you? You're just gonna leave her all… weak?" Buffy asked, biting her lip.

She wasn't sure what to do here. Was stealing mojo from yourself something she should step in and stop? Was that Slayer territory? It's not like she knew for sure the woman would use her power for bad. Jeez, she really hated moral quandaries. She liked it better when it was Slayer good; demon bad; slay.

"Then she will know how I feel," the woman snapped.

Wow, talk about someone with a chip on her shoulder.

She was done talking though, and before Buffy fully got the "Wait" on her tongue out, Marie was pulling open the pouch and throwing some kind of dust on the circle as she stepped into it. Buffy moved forward automatically, hand outstretched to stop her and the tip of her shoe stepping on the outline of the circle.

There was a bright flash and a panicked curse followed by a scream that was quickly cut off. But Buffy was more concerned with how up and down had somehow switched places, leaving her floating in a black limbo. She tried to yell, but found she couldn't even breathe. Just as panic was really starting to set in, she found her air suddenly returned to her and the black nothingness replaced by a starlit sky. Her mouth tasted like she'd been sucking on a dirty penny and there was a buzzing in her ears like a hundred pissed off bees.

"She _voodooed_ me… that _bitch_," she mumbled hoarsely, sitting up.

Looking around, Buffy didn't see the woman anywhere. Gone were the circle and the bones and the other random crap. Instead there was a mausoleum that certainly hadn't been there before. She pulled herself to her feet slowly, scanning the area for danger at the same time. It was then that she noticed that the cemetery didn't look exactly the same. She couldn't pinpoint what exactly was different, beside the random appearance of the crypt, but what could really change? It was all headstones, grass and trees. Still… something was off. Turning her gaze back to the mausoleum, she walked a circle around it. Stopping by the door, she tapped on it lightly.

"Hey, voodoo lady, you in there?" She called, wondering if maybe she'd gotten the equivalent to an Acme spell that Wile E. Coyote'd her into a tomb.

There was no answer. She was thinking about breaking in when she noticed the inscription.

It read - Marie Laveau 1794-1881

"Hey, that's the voodoo lady's name…"

So… did her plan to steal her doppelganger's mojo backfire, kill her and… grow her own tomb for her dead body? That'd be new…. Nice and clean though. But the stone looked so old and weathered… Vines had grown around the doors. It looked anything but new. A tiny seed of suspicion had sprouted in Buffy's mind, but she ignored it. Shrugging it off, she decided that it was just some bad voodoo - which, like bad Chinese food, could either kill you or just give you weird dreams and the runs - whatever had happened to Marie, she obviously wasn't here anymore.

Filing it away to ask Giles about later, she turned back toward the southern entrance where she'd come in from. As she picked her way across the cemetery, she was still bothered by the fact things didn't look familiar. She'd just been through there, after all. The little seed that had sprouted grew taller, tiny wing like leaves unfurling. Then she got to the southern wall, where she knew the gate she'd entered through was located.

Except now there was no gate, just wall.

"What the…"

The little suspicious-thought-plant grew taller, but she refused to look at it closely - unwilling to entertain the idea just yet.

She scaled the wall easily and made her way down the quiet sidewalk back toward the more populated streets. Again, things looked… off. Rounding a corner onto a main road, she eyed all the passing traffic and pedestrians closely. They all looked normal enough, but her slayer sense was tingling oddly.

Just outside the French Quarter, she saw something she _definitely _hadn't noticed in her last few days there in New Orleans - a walled strip of blocks, the entrances sporting armed guards dressed in black swat-like uniforms. Eyeing the guards warily and trying to figure out why her spidey sense was going off, Buffy almost blew right by the tourist group without a second look. But she heard one word that stopped her in her tracks.

"-headquarters of New Orleans' most famous vampire, Sophie-Anne Leclerq." Ooh's and ahh's were heard from the crowd and a flurry of flashes went off. "As you can see, she's very well protected from possible threats by hate groups targeting vampires," the tour guide went on, gesturing to the guards. "A veritable vampire army guards the three block estate of Miss Leclerq. Feel free to take pictures, they don't mind at all. And if you ask nicely, they might even pose…"

The chatter died away as the crowd of gawkers continued down the sidewalk, leaving a frozen Buffy behind. The little seed of suspicion had fully bloomed into dreadful realization.

She wasn't in Kansas anymore.

Staring at the armed vampire guards as they smiled and talked with the tourists, Buffy's sighed in aggravation.

"Crap."


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

An hour after Buffy's realization that she wasn't quite in her reality anymore, she walked into a seedy bar on Rampart Street. The smell of smoke and booze that smacked her in the face as she pushed the darkly tinted glass door open pulled her from her circling thoughts. Most things here seemed the same - people were people, grass was green and the French Quarter was laid out the same. She'd only spotted little differences so far - a few differently named streets, a couple unfamiliar car brands and her hotel was gone, which was annoying. Not that she expected them to have records of the interdimensional kind anyway (well, she might have hoped for a second).

Oh yeah, there was also tiny little fact that _freakin' vampires had come out of the closet_.

She'd just been to the library, slipping in right before closing, and read up on The Great Revelation - how two years ago vamps had come out to the world and now lived on synthetic blood marketed by the Japanese. The victims of a virus that made them appear dead for a few days then left them with an allergy to sunlight and silver, it said. Oh, and the "change to their dietary needs". The librarian had kicked her out at that point because she hadn't been able to control her laughter.

Once outside, she'd sobered with the realization that now she knew what was setting off her senses. Vamps were everywhere. As she walked around aimlessly, she'd been amazed at the amount of them. She'd passed them on the street, seen them driving cars, watched them shop in boutiques. There was even one in the bar she'd just entered, sitting in the back corner, nursing a TruBlood and watching a football game on the beat-up television hanging on the wall.

Buffy shook her head and plopped down at the bar, signaling the bartender with one hand and pushing her hair out of her face with the other.

"I want the strongest thing you've got. Two of them," she said when he came over, putting a bowl of nuts down in front of her.

Wide, bald and tattooed, he looked her over skeptically. "You sure? I'm mean, you're kinda small and they're pretty-"

"The day I've had… Just bring me the damn drinks," Buffy said, grabbing up some bar nuts and popping them in her mouth as he shrugged and turned away.

Being voodooed into anther dimension she could handle, but vampires out and about in the public? Hanging out with humans? Drinking fake blood to survive? _That _was were her brain was melting into a pile of goo.

Plus there was something different about these vampires. _For one_, she thought, letting her eyes wander to the back corner again, _they don't go into grrr face when they're chowing down_. The vampire sitting there was solidly built with a head full of thick dark hair and a slightly hooked nose. His skin was the tan of someone of Middle Eastern descent and smooth - no sign of bumpies at all while he took a drink from the glass of blood in front of him. Plus, they set off her senses, but not in a "grrr Slayer angry, Slayer kill vampires" kind of way. They definitely set her Slayer side on edge, but the instinct to stake first, ask questions later was… confused.

The bartender came back over and sat both her drinks in front of her while she was watching the vampire thoughtfully from the corner of her eye.

"If you're lookin' for that kinda action, you can take yourself on to one of them vampire bars. Fang-bangers ain't welcome here."

Buffy's gaze whipped back toward the big bald man behind the bar, her hackles raising more at the tone of his voice than the words. She forced her face into a look of mild confusion instead of showing her anger at being talked down to.

"_What _aren't welcome here?"

"Fang-bangers," he said. She shrugged and raised an eyebrow, so he elaborated. "That's what we call the girls that go for those kinds around here."

Well, so much for vamp-y equality…

"I'm not- I just- I'm not from here," Buffy finally got out - part of her offended that he thought she was some kind of vampire slut looking for a lay and the other part of her _really _offended because she'd had two vampire boyfriends. "This is all a little new to me."

The bartenders face softened immediately. "Sorry about that miss. Just didn't want no trouble around here. It's illegal for vampires to be drinkin' from people on the premises, didn't want some fang-banger showing up and temptin' him."

The bartender nodded toward the vamp in the corner and Buffy glanced at him again, noticing that he'd gone a little still - he was listening…

"Oh no," Buffy said, waving a hand in front of her and turning her attention back to the bartender, forcing her jaw not to clench and her fist not to find the big man's face. Fang-banger. If someone at home had dared call her that… She shook it off, not wanting to start any trouble. "No tempting here. Just kinda curious, I guess."

"So there's no vampires where you come from?" He asked, turning away to wave to another customer that had just come in and missing her grimace. He continued on before she had a chance to sputter out a reply. "That's not too unusual, there's lots of folks that come here to New Orleans to get a load of them. They're not too common in the less populated areas I guess."

"Then she should find out first hand what a real vampire is like," a low voice said from behind her. She'd felt him approach, but managed to turn around and look at him curiously instead of whipping around on her stool and pulling out Mr. Pointy like her Slayer side suggested.

"I don't want no trouble in here," the bartender said, looking sternly at the vamp behind her.

"Of course not, just offering to answer the lady's questions, is all," he said with a disarming grin. "Work on improving vampire/human relations."

Buffy snorted. "Did they send you from the vampire branch of the visitor's center?"

"Do you want to hear the 'Vampires and You' speech from the pamphlet? I have it memorized," he said, making her smile despite herself.

He smiled back at her, all mischievous eyes and nonpointy teeth. There was no creepy underlying skeeviness or hidden intentions like she'd always noticed in vamps before. Her theory that vampires here were something different was gaining credibility.

And what better way to find out for sure than from the source?

"Okay mister vampire ambassador, I'll bite. Or, well I won't bite, that's what you do. Or what you won't be doing. No biting. There will be no biting, by anyone."

Going for a serious look, he held a hand to his heart and feigned sincerity. "Absolutely no biting, you have my word."

"Well, I guess that would be okay…"

Reaching past her and grabbing both her glasses, he turned to her again, his face only about six inches away. "If you change your mind though, I wouldn't complain. You smell delicious."

His smile was teasing, mouth filled with bright white teeth, but there was a gleam in his eyes telling her he wasn't joking. Then he straightened up, holding her drinks and gesturing toward his corner table. "Join me, Miss…."

"Buffy," she said, sliding off her stool and following. He stopped short, almost causing her to run into his back and she had a moment of panic. What if there was another her here? Should she have given him a fake name? But a glance at his face alleviated her fears. Instead, his incredulous look had her narrowing her eyes.

"Buffy? Your name is actually Buffy?"

"Yes, it's actually Buffy," she snapped. "Is there a problem with my name?"

He eyed her, his gaze speculative and she cursed herself. She was supposed to be the naïve country girl in the big city seeing vampires for the first time. She should be cowed, not giving off "I'm gonna kick your ass for making fun of my name" vibes.

"No, it suits you," he said, smirking as he continued toward the table.

"And what's your name? Or should I just call you Mr. Smartass Vampire?" She smacked herself mentally, she just couldn't seem to help herself.

The vampire didn't stop, but he did hesitate before answering.

"…Rasul."

"Rasul? Rasul the vampire was going to pick on _my _name?" Buffy snorted.

"My name is sacred in my land," Rasul answered haughtily.

"So's mine," Buffy shot back.

He chuckled as he sat her drinks down on the table and gestured for her to sit across from him.

"I like you, Buffy."

Actually, she kind of liked him, too. It was going to suck if he turned out to be evil and she had to stake him. But did he even die the same as the vamps back home? She'd been booted from the library before she had a chance to find out any details. Sitting down and taking another shudder-inducing drink from one of her glasses, she decided that asking Rasul might be in bad taste. She'd wait and see how open he was to talking about being a vampire first.

"Why did you offer to do this?" She asked as he sat down across from her. "To answer my questions?"

"My employer does a great deal of business with humans and is a prominent vampire figure. She stresses often the importance of humans thinking well of us," he answered with a shrug, then grinned. "Plus you smell good and are amusing."

She rolled her eyes and then took a moment to unabashedly stare at him. He didn't seem bothered, he just let her look - occasionally glancing over her head, presumably to get the score on the game. He looked pretty normal, but there was a very faint almost… _glow _to him. She hadn't paid attention to that earlier when she'd seen vampires out on the street, instead just letting her senses tell her where the they were. She wondered if they all glowed like that if looked at closely or if he was different. His dark eyes glittered a bit more than a regular person's, the light reflecting off them oddly. But other than that…

"Where are your fangs?" She blurted. It had just hit her that she'd seen him smile and not seen anything overly pointy in his mouth.

He opened his mouth with no complaint and let his fangs slide out.

"Whoa…" She said, leaning forward to get a better look. He held still with his mouth wide open until she leaned back in her seat, satisfied. Picking up her glass again, she took a deep swallow. These vampires _were_ different. But _how _different? Unsure if she was about to tread into taboo territory, she fidgeted in her seat slightly.

"Ask," he said. Her eyes shot up to his and he gave her a little half smile. "You won't offend me. Though it's nice that you're worried about it."

Buffy's mouth fell open and she felt panic bubbling up again. "Can you read minds?!"

He barked out a laugh and shook his head, causing her to whoosh out a breath of relief. "There is sometimes a telepathic bond between a vampire and his maker, and some vampires _do _have unique talents, but I've never heard of one being able to read minds."

"What kind of talents?"

"Some can fly," he said watching her with amusement.

"No way! Like Superman?!" She asked, all wide eyed excitement, like she'd just found out unicorns were real. It occurred to her a split second later that there might not _be _a Superman in this dimension. But Rasul laughed again, an infectious sound that made her smile along with him.

"All the vampires I know that can fly are too dignified to fly like that. They more just hover over the ground, upright." Hmm, guess The Man of Steel was a staple in all dimensions. "And of course we're all very fast and strong."

"Immortal?" She asked, poking into the territory she'd really been wondering about.

"There are ways to kill us," he said carefully. "But we do not age if that is what you mean."

Deciding to back off that subject lest she raise suspicion, Buffy instead waded into another topic that might be delicate.

"So, are you still, you know… you?"

"Am I still me?" He asked, befuddled.

"Well, yeah. See, where I'm from, people say that vampires aren't really people at all. They're demons living in a human body."

Rasul threw his head back and let out a loud boom of laughter. "Sounds like the kind of crap The Fellowship of the Sun spews."

"Fellowship of the Sun?"

His laughter cut of and he cocked his head, looking at her closer. Buffy forced herself to keep looking innocently curious while she wondered yet again if she'd made a wrong step. This trying to get info in a different world thing was tough.

"You really are from a small place, aren't you? The Fellowship is a fanatical religious group. They insist that vampires are an abomination - a crime against God and nature."

"Are they violent?"

He pause, cocking his head again. "They can be, certainly. But for the most part they just spread their hate through words - holding anti-vampire rallies and constantly trying to recruit members."

Buffy frowned, not sure what to make of this new information. The way he phrased it - "recruit members" - she didn't like the implications behind that. But she was getting the info from a pretty biased source. She made a mental note to look up more on this Fellowship of the Sun. Were they concerned citizens trying to save lives or were they a dangerous hate group? Then, realizing what she was thinking, she almost snorted. She would be looking for a way home, not finding out if _vampires_ were _safe _from some religious group.

"Your original question is a difficult one, though. Opinion differs greatly from person to person, vampire to vampire. Many would say there isn't anything human left in us. But I believe we are still who we were before, circumstances have just changed us as they would anyone. Living so long, with the restraints and the differences we have, it is impossible to believe we would not change from who we were before."

"But other than a change in attitude," Buffy said, feeling he was leading her in circles. "Do you feel that you were still in there _to_ change? That _Rasul _evolved into what you are now?"

He nodded immediately. "I do. When I awoke, I was different, but I was also the same."

Buffy studied him for a moment, puzzling over his words, then shrugged. "Since you're the only vampire I've ever met, I guess I'll just have to take your word for it."

Not that it mattered, she added mentally, she'd be going home soon anyway.

"Then you should meet others. Form an opinion of your own," he said, taking a drink of his blood. He wasn't being patronizing, just blunt. "How long are you in town for? I have to work tomorrow, but I could show you around on Sunday if you'd like. New Orleans has a vast and varied vampire scene, I could show you both ends of the spectrum."

"I thought you were supposed to be only showing me how great vampires are," she pointed out shrewdly. "Why would you take me somewhere that might show you guys in a bad light? How do I know you won't take me only places where the vampires that behave themselves hang out?"

"I have a feeling you wouldn't accept such subterfuge," he said with a fond smile before turning serious. "And it's not safe for you to go to some of those places by yourself, as I can tell you would. Even among vampires trying to mainstream - that is, live among humans - there are still… unfortunate accidents."

Silence settled over them and Buffy felt her stomach clench unhappily from something other than the unfamiliar liquor she'd plied it with. There it was - underneath it all, despite the differences, vampires were still vampires and they killed people.

_But don't people kill people sometimes, too?_ A little diplomatic part asked. _Just because some act like that doesn't mean they're all bad._

She shook that voice off. She was letting the fact that she liked Rasul cloud her judgment. Just because she'd met one vampire she liked didn't mean the others were like him. She'd met vampires at home she'd liked too, but 99.9% of them were still blood sucking scum. Besides, it didn't matter, she'd be going home soon.

"I should be getting back to… where I'm from," she said.

"Already? Didn't you just arrive?" Rasul asked, confused.

"I did, but… I don't think I belong here."

"Being where you 'belong' is boring," he said with a dismissive hand wave. "You wanted to learn about vampires, right? So, stay and learn about them. Unless you have something important to be getting back to…"

Buffy was left blinking at him stupidly. What _did _she have to get back to? Would it really matter if she stayed a few days and poked around before looking for a way home? All that was waiting there was more monotony anyway…

"I guess I could stay for a little longer…"

Rasul smiled at her and she found herself smiling back - excited about something for the first time ages.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

The sun, already reaching its apex and beating down on her hotly, was what Buffy woke up. Well, that and the lone, brave pigeon pecking at the hem of her jeans.

"What the- Get outta here!"

The bird flew off and she didn't blame it for being scared - she sounded as if she'd eaten gravel for dinner last night. She didn't even want to know what she _looked _like. Sitting up, she stayed like that for a moment - hands laying palm up on the thighs of her outstretched legs and squinted eyes looking around her in confusion. The veil of sleep was slow to leave her mind, but facts sluggishly started filtering in.

She was on a roof.

The skin on her face felt tight, she probably had a sunburn.

Her mouth tasted like she'd been licking the floor of a crypt.

That did it - the thought of the crypt and her mouth tasting funny triggered her memories of the night before. The crazy voodoo chick, her arrival in bizarro vamp land and her talk with Rasul. She'd left after arranging to meet him at the same bar on Sunday. It hadn't been until she'd gotten outside and halfway down the block that she remembered she didn't have anywhere to go.

Digging in her pockets, she'd come up with a pack of gum, Mr. Pointy, three credit cards that wouldn't be any use, a ball of lint with a string tangled around it, three pennies, and thirty-five dollars. Good thing Rasul had insisted on paying for her drinks. That left her with thirty-five dollars to last however long she was going to be there. That… wasn't going to work. Too tired to think on it right then, she'd decided to just focus on finding a place to sleep.

No money for a hotel left her with little choice. Breaking and entering hadn't sounded appealing. That left alleys or shelters - both made her lip curl back in distaste. She'd continued walking while she weighed her few options and when she looked up, she noticed she'd ended up in front of the library again. She made a mental note to visit there first thing in the morning and do some more digging. Then she had the brilliant idea - why not already _be _there in the morning? The rooftops would be a great place to sleep! Well, barring the sun and pigeons, apparently, but there'd be no bums, no thugs, no bugs (at least that's what she told herself). So up she'd went.

Now here she was. On the roof. In the middle of the day. Besides sleeping too long and getting sun burnt, it had actually worked out pretty well. Bending down, she inspected her jeans closely. It didn't look like the pesky bird had had enough time to peck a hole, at least. That would have really pissed her off seeing as she didn't have any other clothes. There was anther problem - she needed clothes. And a shower. A curling iron and blow dryer were up there on the list, too.

Man, being homeless and poor _sucked_.

Wallowing in self pity, she deftly climbed down the shadowed back of the library. She took a moment to straighten her clothes and try to finger comb her hair, then went around the front and went in. The cool air was so nice she closed her eyes for a second, enjoying the feel of it and that special library smell that, ever since high school, always made her feel at home. Feeling refreshed by her moment of nostalgia, Buffy felt a little more ready to face the day. First things first, she needed a bathroom.

Fifteen minutes later, she came out, about as clean and groomed as someone can get in a public restroom. After that she settled in for some research. She _should've _been trying to find a way back home, or even figuring out a way to get some cash. But again curiosity won out and she found herself at a computer in a back corner with a stack of old newspapers and magazines beside her.

At about three, her stomach rumbled loudly, drawing the attention of the other library goers and telling her in no uncertain terms that it would turn itself inside out if she didn't give it something to eat soon. Closing out the sites she'd been browsing and gathering up the papers she'd been looking at, she put them away and left in a daze. Research had never been her strong suit and now she found her poor brain on overload.

Across the street at a little (cheap) diner, she ate without tasting her (cheap) food. Thoughts of Sino-AIDS, drainers, secret sleeping places, and fang-bangers circled. Varying political standpoints on vampire rights, their standings in countries other than America, and the rumors of their own hierarchy all fought to be examined further.

A few particular thoughts stood out among the rest of the din:

Firstly, vampires were said to be killed using a wooden stake. But there were no accounts on whether they "dusted" or not, so she wasn't sure if this was fact or just assumption of people going by myth. Daylight also killed them. Silver burned them. She figured she'd better find a silver blade to carry around with Mr. Pointy, just in case.

Next, it was _illegal_ to kill a vampire. And there were actually _vampire cops _out there that drove silver barred vans for capturing the law breaking vamps. That one had particularly blown her mind.

Lastly, The Fellowship of the Sun gave her the major wiggins. Steve Newlin, the director, was way creepy in a "gee golly shucks" kinda way. The website was very passive aggressive - preaching good family values, love, and God, but throwing jabs at vampires and their lack of all these things as well. Soulless, blah, blah, blah, damnation, blah, blah, blah, evil, blah, blah, blah, temptation, blah, blah, blah. But, seeing the things she'd seen, she couldn't exactly say their feelings for vampires were unjustified (even if they were wicked creepy). At least for _her _vampires from back home. The jury was still out on these vamps.

All in all, it was fascinating. It made research, which she hated, zoom by. But she couldn't help but wonder what else was out there. The vamps "came out" but that didn't mean there wasn't anything _else _out there. Did demons, witches, werewolves and other assorted things from the world of the weird exist here, still in the shadows?

She was looking forward to finding out.

After eating, she decided she was all researched out for the day and spent the remaining hours until sun set roaming the area, getting the lay of the land, doing the tourist thing. It was boring and she wished she'd just gone back up to the roof and gone back to sleep. But then the sun went down and things started to get interesting again. The vampires (all of them glow-y now that she knew to look for it) trickled out of their hiding places as soon as dark fell and she was once again watching in interest as they mingled with humans and wandered out in the open.

She'd been thinking of visiting a few vamp bars despite Rasul's warnings. She'd spotted a few while she was out and about that day, closed until dark, of course. It wasn't like she _needed _him to go along and play chaperone, after all. It would make things easier, for sure, but since when did she ever do things the easy way? She was still tossing this idea around when she noticed a crowd in front of her on the sidewalk. Looking around, she realized she was back in front of the walled estate of the big-wig vamp - whose name made her think of… soap… no, sofa… comfy sofa… Sophie!

As she got closer, she saw that it wasn't like the gaggle of spread out tourists she'd seen the day before. These people had formed a somewhat orderly throng to each side of the entrance and along the sidewalk.

"What's the what here?" She asked stepping up beside a woman with a camera and wide excited eyes.

"There's a party at the Mayor's house tonight. We're hopping Miss Leclerq comes out this way," she said, barely taking her eyes off the gate to glance at Buffy.

"Uh, wouldn't she just take a car?" Buffy asked dubiously, eyeing the crowd again. These people were _weird_.

"Oh, I hope not," she answered, her shoulders slumping slightly. "They say she comes out a lot so people can see her. I'm only here one more night…"

Buffy shook her head and left the woman to her fretting. She had to admit, the excitement in the air was practically palpable and it was making her curious. She _was_ already there… She might as well stay and see what the big deal was. Carefully, she started wiggling her way stealthily through the crowd. If she was going to stay and see this vampire, she should at least get a good spot. It wasn't long before she'd squeezed herself into a space about two people from the front. She had a nice little gap between shoulders where she'd get a brief, but clear view of anything that went by. She took a moment to wonder about the lack of any ropes or crowd control. What was stopping the crowd from rushing this semi-celebrity vamp chick if she really did come this way? Then she rolled her eyes at herself - she was guessing the _vampire _bit was what would be keeping people in line. The threat of getting your throat ripped out probably worked better than the little ropes they used at the bank…

She'd been there for about ten minutes when she started wondering if this had been a bad idea. The guy beside her smelled like old cheese and was breathing loudly through his mouth. There was also a kid behind her shrieking that he couldn't see the vampires. Feeling a twitch in her eye starting, she was about to give it up as a loss and get the hell out of there when a collective indrawn breath from the crowd stilled her. Peeking through the gap, Buffy got her first look at Sophie-Anne Leclerq.

She was about Buffy's height, her reddish-brown hair perfectly arranged in an intricate design held with pins that had glittering emeralds to match her green silk gown. Large, tilted brown eyes surveyed the crowd with some interest as she offered a small smile and the occasional word to those she passed. As she swept by, her and her entourage moving faster than they seemed to be at first glance, she noticed how _young_ she was (or at least how young she'd been when turned). She didn't even look twenty, and that was _with _the hair, the dress and the makeup. Buffy wondered how much younger she'd look without it all.

Sophie-Anne left her field of vision and one of the SWAT dressed guards following behind caught Buffy's eye as he went by - the curve of his nose and dark skin was very familiar. As if feeling her gaze on him, Rasul glanced over and after a brief look of surprise, gave her tiny smile and a barely perceptible head nod. Buffy smiled and gave him a little wave. An employer who was a "prominent vampire figure" indeed. Buffy could definitely see why someone as well know as this Sophie-Anne was would want all her employees on their best behavior with humans though.

A guy moved up beside her, bumping her hard and making her loose her spot and her view. Shooting him an irritated glare, the man barely gave her a moments notice. A distracted "sorry" and a strained smile were tossed her way without a thought, obviously insincere. He was average height with a no-color kind of brown hair. He was pale and sweating heavily. Casting her suspicious eyes over him as he continued to bump his way toward the front, she spotted it. Who in the world (any world) would be better at spotting a hidden stake than her?

He was elbowing his way toward the front of the crowd. Toward Sophie-Anne and the guards. Toward Rasul. His hand was sliding under the back of his shirt toward the poorly concealed stake.

_Don't do it_, her Slayer side hissed at her. _Don't you even_ think _about it_.

But Buffy was already moving forward.

They spotted him as soon as he stepped over the invisible barrier. Fangs came out and they crouched almost in unison as he pulled the stake out, vestiges of humanity dropping away. He wasn't deterred in the slightest, he was raising the stake.

Buffy slid between the last two people blocking her from him like water and stepped up behind him. Her hand shot out, snatching his as it was just beginning its downswing and twisting it out and then back up behind his back at the same time she kicked the back of one of his legs. The stake clattered to the ground and the man went down to his knees with a yelp, bent forward by the force of her hold on his arm. It all happened in less time than it takes to blink.

The vampires were still crouched, eyes dark and dangerous, fangs extended.

"Someone call the cops to come get this guy," Buffy said, speaking loudly to the crowd, while keeping her eyes on the vamps. This seemed to snap them out of their bloodlust, as she hoped it would, and they all slowly straightened. They talked quickly and quietly among themselves for a moment, but Buffy was more concerned with the guy she was holding down who had started squirming while intermittingly begging and cursing her.

"You'll burn in hell for protecting these monsters" was a particular phrase that stood out to her. Sensing movement, she looked up to see Sophie-Anne being ushered off by her guards, she was deep in conversation with another vampire Buffy hadn't noticed until now. Short with close-cut white-blond hair, she couldn't see anything more of him as his back was to her. Then Rasul was there in front of her, blocking her view. His mouth was tight and she could see the outline of his fangs distorting his lips. He opened his mouth after a beat, a flash of fangs showing as he went to speak, but a booming voice telling the crowd to back up and approaching flashing lights interrupted him.

The cops quickly took the man away, he was gripping his shoulder and shooting Buffy a death glare all the way to the car and continued to stare her down as it pulled away. She hoped _he _didn't know any voodoo… The questioning by the cops was awkward. They wanted to know who she was, where she was staying, and an ID. So, she'd lied her ass off. She gave them a fake name and told them she was staying at a hotel she'd seen down the road. That she'd gone out for a walk and left everything with her sister back in her room. They seemed to buy it though and just said they'd contact her at the hotel if they had any more questions.

When the cops were gone and the crowd was pushed back to the other side of the street, Rasul motioned for Buffy to follow him inside the gate. She did so warily. He'd been silent and serious the entire time they'd talked to the police, barely looking at her. She wondered if he was just being professional, since he was at work, or if she'd done something to make him angry. What exactly he had to be angry at, she didn't know. She'd saved his ass after all, he'd been the one closest to the pointy piece of wood.

_I saved a vampire_, she thought morosely. Well, it wasn't like it was the first time. She just really hoped he didn't turn out to be evil after this.

It was darker inside the compound, the lights from the street mostly blocked out by the wall and the tall trees. She stopped just inside the gate, far enough in to be away from the prying eyes of the crowd, but close enough to the exit to be comfortable in case something bad was about to happen.

"The Qu- Lady Leclerq, would like to meet you, Buffy," Rasul said. "To thank you for your help."

His voice was tight and he was standing very still. She realized that meeting the "Queen" (yeah, she'd taken note of his little slip) might not be such an honor.

"It's not really a big deal," she said shaking her head and backing up a step. "I mean, that guy probably wouldn't have actually staked any of you. You saw him coming."

"Yes, but we likely would have killed him. Right there in front of all those tourists. The damage would be done and the vampires tenuous status in society would be even more strained."

She looked at him, trying to puzzle him out, but his face might as well have been carved from stone as he stared back.

"What's this really about?" Buffy asked, cutting to the chase.

"You've drawn her attention, Buffy."

"I don't really have a choice about this, do I?"

His silence was the only answer she needed.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

Buffy and Rasul stared at one another. Her with thoughts and options running through her mind and him waiting to see what she'd do. She was still close to the exit, should she run? Would he try and stop her? Would the other guards join him? There'd be a _huge_ mess if that were the case.

"Isn't she supposed to be at the mayor's house or something?" Buffy asked, buying time as she turned the situation over in her head again and again.

"She's postponed going until she saw you."

"Because she wants to thank me," Buffy said, dubiously. She actually would have accepted this reasoning readily had it been any other vampire to come retrieve her. Sophie-Anne must have sent Rasul because he mentioned knowing her, but it had backfired. Since Buffy had seen him the night before, relaxed and mischievous, she could tell something was wrong now by his stiff, serious expression.

When he didn't answer, she heaved a sigh. "Fine let's go see her," Buffy said.

Sophie-Anne was influential, and Buffy had a feeling her reach was far. Even if running away did appeal to her, she'd probably be constantly harassed by vamps on the "queen's" behalf until she came in. It wasn't like she could leave town either, not until she figured out a way to get home and if the graveyard she'd landed in was the same place she needed to leave from.

Rasul nodded and turned away, leading her further into the compound. Silence stretched between them and for the first time Buffy noticed that there were no sounds at all within the walled estate. No birds, no cicadas, no crickets. Just the distant sound of passing cars on the street, their sound muffled by the high walls. Buffy wondered if she was the only living thing there, the only one breathing, the only one with a heartbeat.

Soon they stepped out of the trees and the building came into view. It was… not what she'd expected.

"Did someone on acid do the decorating out here?" She asked, stopping to get a good look at it. Rasul, breaking his staid attitude, gave a tiny little snort of either amusement or agreement.

The place was plain ugly. A big, three story rectangle, the windows were covered in panels painted hideously in gold, purple and green. You'd think someone with Sophie-Anne's money would have something a little more visually appealing. Buffy knew if she was rich, she'd be more than willing to give a big chunk of her fortune not to live in something that looked like Willy Wonka picked out the color scheme.

Inside, the décor was much more tame. Neutral colors and boring paintings hung on the walls of the hallway. Vampires roamed the halls and Buffy could feel herself tensing the further into the building they got. There were iso many/i in there, her Slayer senses were prickling uncomfortably.

They took an elevator up to the third floor and, despite the situation, Buffy cracked a grin at the elevator music. When the doors opened, they went halfway down the hall and stopped in front of a door. Rasul hesitated and Buffy noticed that she wasn't the only one that was anxious. His hand flexed at his side once before coming up to knock. He didn't wait for permission to enter, just pushed the door open and motioned for Buffy to go in. She did so after a moments hesitation and was glad to feel him enter behind her, though she wasn't sure why.

The room wasn't very big but it was lavishly decorated. The look was a little too Queen's mansion for Buffy's taste though. Lots of delicate things and British-y looking patterns. Small golden lamps sat on tables in the corners, lighting the room in a soft yellow glow. She supposed it was meant to make it look warm and inviting. She wasn't feeling it. That probably had more to do with the company than the decoration though.

Sophie-Anne, still dressed in her green gown, was sitting with her feet pulled up on a chaise, the dress trailing over the front. Her eyes were on Buffy as soon as she stepped foot in the room. The focus and intensity directed at her was disconcerting, but the fact it was coming from such a young face made it even more so. Now that Buffy was closer to her, she could swear that she was no more than sixteen when she'd been changed.

The short guy with the white-blond hair she'd glimpsed the back of earlier was standing beside Sophie-Anne. Dressed in an impeccable tux, he shouldn't have looked as intimidating as he did considering his soft round face and the fact he didn't look much older than Sophie-Anne. Still, his flat blue gaze gave her the heebie-jeebies. To the far ends of the room, on her right and on her left, stood two huge dudes. Both had long brown hair, pulled back in ponytails, scarred faces, and thick beards. They both also carried an impressive array of knives and an axe apiece.

"Rasul, please introduce your… friend," Sophie-Anne said, her eyes never leaving Buffy. Her lightly accented voice was calm and bland, definitely not the voice of the teenager she seemed to be.

"This is Buffy," he said, his voice smooth and confident, not showing an ounce of the tension she felt radiating off of him. "I met her in a bar last night. She's new in town. Never met a vampire before."

"Is that so," Sophie-Anne said. Her staring was getting out of hand. After a beat she went on. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Buffy. I am Sophie-Anne. This," she said, gesturing to the tuxedoed vampire beside her, "is Andre."

"And the Doublemint twins?" She asked, nodding to the two giants.

"Sigebert and Wybert."

The silence stretched out between them again and Sophie-Anne continued to stare. Buffy, who was getting bored and irritated, was about to say something when the vampire finally spoke.

"You were out with this human last night and you didn't notice she was… different?" Sophie-Anne asked, finally tearing her eyes from Buffy to look at Rasul.

"Of course she was different, that's why I liked her," Rasul said, giving a ghost of the smile he'd had yesterday. For the first time Buffy realized his attitude might have been because he was worried about her.

"You said she'd never encountered a vampire before, but she was unafraid," Sophie-Anne went on, a statement, not a question. "Even now, there is no fear."

"No," Rasul answered slowly. "She wasn't scared. It made her interesting. Her curiosity was genuine."

Fed up, Buffy flung her hands in the air. "'_She_' is right here! Rude much?"

All eyes went to her, but it was Sophie-Anne's weighty gaze that made her want to squirm.

"Let's cut to the chase then, shall we? While I thank you for your intervention earlier, I couldn't help but notice you move differently than any human I've seen before. More graceful, quicker. Tell me, Buffy, why is that?"

"I don't know what you mean," she said, giving a shrug and trying to look confused and innocent.

"You don't…" Sophie-Anne said the words blandly - no disbelief or annoyance. If anything, she looked bored. "So, you're nothing special? My eyes and senses were simply deceiving me? Is that your claim?"

"Yep, pretty much," Buffy said with a head bob.

Sophie-Anne stared at her for a moment and no one moved. Only Buffy breathed.

Finally she gave a tiny shrug and tilted her head to look up at Andre.

"Kill her."

Buffy didn't even get a chance to voice her disbelief at the order before Andre was on her.

_So fast_…

Way faster than a normal vamp. There was no time to dodge, it was more of just the beginnings of a dodge that saved her head. His hand came so close his knuckles actually brushed her cheek, like a lover's caress. His fingers tangled in her hair as his hand sailed by, ripping some out in the process.

Now she was pissed.

"Nobody messes with my hair," she growled.

Lightning quick, Andre had shifted his weight to compensate for the missed hit and was bringing a leg up to kick her. She stepped in close, knowing she didn't have time to back out of range. Her move seemed to surprise him. Even more so, when his ineffectual kick landed on her hip with barely a grunt from her. Her arm shot out, her elbow and the outside of her forearm catching him squarely in his shocked face and causing him to stumble back a few steps.

She was lucky he'd still underestimated her despite what Sophie-Anne had been saying. She hadn't been prepared for how fast he was, and the way her hip was singing despite the kick not landing solidly told her they were stronger than her vamps back home too. Her senses told her that none of the other vampires had moved. At least not yet. She needed to end this quick, before they joined the fray.

Mind focused, she was ready for him this time when he came at her. He was still faster, but she was better trained. He practically telegraphed what he was going to do next, her sharp eyes reading his intentions easily. She was able to sidestep his fist this time, moving before he'd actually swung to give herself time to get out of the way. As his hand sailed by, she grabbed hold and pulled hard, yanking him off balance before dropping and swiping his legs out from under him. As he fell, she slid her hand to her boot while she was crouched and pulled Mr. Pointy from his hiding place. She gave him an experimental twirl, making sure she had a good grip and prayed that a stake to the heart was a universal, uh… _multi_versal, rule for killing vamps.

"Stop!" For the first time, Buffy heard an emotion in Sophie-Anne's voice - whether it was panic or excitement, she couldn't tell. Nor did she care. She brought the stake down.

A hand shot out and grabbed her wrist, stopping her just before the stake could puncture Andre's chest. Glancing up, Buffy saw it was Rasul, wide eyed, and his arm shaking with the strain of holding Buffy's arm.

Buffy hesitated, still not really wanting to hurt Rasul despite the fact that he'd led her into the lion's den.

"Nothing special, hmm?" Sophie-Anne said, sounding a little breathless.

That was when Buffy realized she'd been played. Jerking her arm away from Rasul, she stood up, wondering if Andre would have really killed her if she'd failed this test or whatever it was.

"You said you'd never seen a vampire before," Rasul said, his voice slightly accusatory.

Her hand shot out before she really had time to think it over, punching him right in the nose.

"Jerk! You were just going to stand there and let him kill me! I thought we were friends!" She huffed and crossed her arms. "And I wasn't lying, I really hadn't ever seen anything like you before."

"Then why are you carrying around a stake," he asked, his voice muffled as he held a hand to his bleeding nose.

"I might've been thinking about going to some of those vampire bars you mentioned…" She said, not really lying but not telling the whole truth either. No way was she telling them she was a designated vampire killer from another world.

"I told you that was dangerous," he said, his brows tilting down angrily.

"Stake-y protection," she said, waving the piece of wood in his face.

"Where did you learn to fight like that? How are you able to move so quickly? You smell human…" Andre rattled off. He was pale, well, pal_er_, and back beside Sophie-Anne even though Buffy hadn't even heard him get up.

"Ew, with the smelling," Buffy said with a lip curl.

"Answer the question, please," Sophie-Anne ordered more than asked. If Buffy thought her gaze had been intense before, it was nothing compared to now.

"I'm… kind of a protector where I'm from," she said vaguely, tucking the stake back into her boot.

"And that is?"

Buffy remained silent. If Sophie-Anne thought she was just going to blurt out all her secrets, she was sadly mistaken.

When she realized she wasn't going to answer, she shrugged. "It matters not. What is important is that you're obviously not doing that anymore. You smell as if you slept outside last night and haven't bathed in a few days."

Buffy's mouth fell open in outrage. "Are you saying I _stink_?"

"I'm saying I think we can be of use to each other," she said, though Buffy was sure she saw the ghost of a smile flash across her face.

"Useful how?" She asked warily.

"I could use someone of your… talents."

"You're offering me a job?" Buffy asked in shock.

"Yes."

"Doing _what _exactly…"

"There are many places a vampire can't go. You can. A human girl can go places, do things, hear things that are meant to be secret because you are underestimated."

"So, you want me to be like a spy?"

"Yes, among other things. I have many tasks I believe you'd be suited for."

"If you're talking assassinations, I'll tell you right now I'm not cool with that. I don't kill people."

"What about vampires?"

That stopped Buffy short, she wasn't sure how to answer that. Would she sound like a bigot if she said yes? Would she actually be okay with killing random vampires because Sophie-Anne asked? Because she was being paid? No, she wasn't okay with that at all.

"I won't kill anyone just because you ask or pay me," she said. She kept back that she'd be okay with staking a vamp if her own life was at risk, or if she felt they were truly evil, or if they were a danger to someone. She might not have said it, but she could see in Sophie-Anne's calculating gaze that she understood that perfectly.

Buffy took a moment to mourn the fact that here was someone offering to _pay_ her to kill vampires. Why couldn't this have happened at home during the Double Meat Palace era?

"I think we can work around that stipulation," Sophie-Anne said, getting to her feet. "I have a party to be getting to. We can meet tomorrow night and talk details. I'll have someone set you up with a place to stay for the night. If all works out, I'll arrange a permanent residence for you."

She swept out the door before Buffy could get another word out. She blinked at the room, suddenly empty except for her and Rasul. His earlier tension had melted away, leaving him closer to the guy she'd met the night before.

"This is going to be fun," he said, grinning unabashedly.

"Don't make me punch you again," she huffed.

He laughed and went out into the hall where she could hear him talking about hotels with someone. She tuned him out and wondered what the hell she was doing. Was she seriously going to take a job from a vampire? She did need money… And she was already fantasizing about the shower and blow dryer in the pigeon free hotel room. Besides, how hard could spying on some vamps be? And she could always look for a way home in-between working. This would give her an in to the supernatural community, it would actually make it easier to find a way home.

As Rasul called to her and told her he'd take her to the hotel room they'd arranged, she ignored the little part of her that was excited about all this, that really couldn't care less if she got home anytime soon.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

Buffy sat on the floor of her suite, legs sprawled out in front of her as she leaned back against the king sized bed behind her. Wrappers from the stuff from the mini bar were spread all around her. She vindictively hoped that Andre would somehow have to pay for her indulgences. Rasul had insisted on their drive to the hotel last night that Andre wouldn't have really killed her, but Buffy had her doubts. She also had her doubts about Rasul's claim that he would've intervened if he'd really felt Andre meant to kill her and had she'd been nothing more than an ordinary girl. She wanted to believe him, but was still giving him the cold shoulder. At least for now - she had a feeling she wouldn't be able to stay mad at him too long.

She was still sitting there, thinking of ordering room service (again), when her spidey sense kicked in. She cocked her head toward the hall and heard approaching footsteps. They stopped in front of her door and a knock followed. Jumping up, she looked at herself in the mirror, straightening her robe and wiping a smear of chocolate off her upper lip before going to the bedside table and grabbing Mr. Pointy. She didn't think that whatever was on the other side of the door was a vamp since it was still a few hours from sunset, but since the stake was all she had, it would have to do. Mentally preparing for an attack and clutching Mr. Pointy in her hand, she opened the door.

The man standing on the other side was tall and round, his bald head gleamed in the hall lighting, only a fringe of black hair wrapped around his head just above his ears. He was dressed in a perfectly tailored suit and would've looked completely normal if it weren't for his eyes, which were black - like his pupil had overrun his iris.

"Buffy?"

"Uh, yeah," she answered warily.

"I'm Mr. Cataliades," he said dipping his head in a nod. "Her Highness sent me to discuss some things with you. A kind of introduction so your meeting with her tonight can get straight to the point, if you will."

She added sharp teeth to the list.

"Did you say 'her Highness'?" Buffy asked, drawing her thoughts away from wondering what he was. She'd heard Rasul about to call Sophie-Anne the "queen" the night before, but she'd just thought it was more of a nickname than an actual title.

"That's one of the things we must discuss. If I may come in?"

"Oh, yeah, right," she said, stepping back and allowing him entrance. She was far from trusting him yet, but she couldn't very well expect him to stand out in the hall while talking about her job offer.

He nodded at her and walked by, taking a seat in a chair by the window and placing his briefcase on the table beside it.

"First, I must ask, do you intend to take the position offered to you? There's no point in wasting either of our time if not."

"Well," Buffy hedged, tucking Mr. Pointy in her robe pocket and plopping down on the corner of the bed facing him. "I think so. Maybe. Yes. It just depends on what exactly she's asking me to do…"

"The particulars of the job she chooses to send you on are for her to discuss with you. Given that that is your only reservation, we'll continue," he said, pushing his black-rimmed glasses further up on his nose. "You heard me refer to Miss Leclerq as 'her Highness', that's because she is the Queen of Louisiana."

"The Queen of Louisiana…" Buffy repeated flatly before bursting out laughing. "That's sounds… oh man… you're serious?"

"I am. It's certainly no laughing matter. Vampires have their own form of government, Buffy. Most territories are divided by states, but some others go by population. California is split into three fiefdoms, for example. Each territory has a king or queen that oversees it. It is further divided down by 'area's, which are headed up by a sheriff, who manages that section of the king or queen's territory for them."

Buffy's mind whirled at the implications. How many vamps there must be, just in the United States, to require such organization. And that it actually _worked_. If she hadn't already known the vampires here were different, this would've cemented it.

"Uh, I have to ask… this all sounds like super secret type stuff, what happens if I don't take the job and you've already spilled the beans?"

"Your memory of this would simply be erased."

"Oh. Wait-what?" Buffy said, eyes going wide. "You can erase memories? What are you?"

"Well, I'm a half demon," he said, his lips twitching slightly at her reaction. "But no, I can't erase memories. A vampire would have to do that."

"All vampires can do that?"

"Most of them, yes."

"…does it hurt?"

"No, no. It's similar to the glamour they can set upon people. Like hypnosis. They simply replace one memory with something else. Say if they erased this conversation, they'd make you believe you and I only talked about pay and benefits."

"That doesn't sound so bad," Buffy forced out. In fact, she _hated_ the idea of anyone, let alone a vampire, messing with her mind like that. The only thing that kept her from freaking was that she doubted her Slayer side would let any vamp into her head.

After that, they really did get into talks of pay and benefits. All of which left Buffy giddy with thoughts of shopping before she mentally slapped herself and reminded her greedy little self that this was only temporary. Now she knew demons existed, that meant other things probably did, too, like witches. That meant a way home. But she pushed that away until later. As she seemed to keep doing…

After the demonic businessman had left, Buffy ordered a sundae from room service and then went into the bathroom for some pamapering while she mulled things over.

Not long after the sun had set, Buffy was picked up by Rasul. Although she was still a little wigged from her meeting with Mr. Cataliades (she'd written his name down after he'd left, not wanting to call him Mr. Cattle Cities or something equally embarrassing if they met again), but over all she was feeling pretty good. It's funny how much you appreciate a bath and some hair care products after being homeless for only a day. So with her body clean, her hair fluffy and curled and wearing the clothes they'd sent up for her - jeans and a plain white long sleeved tee, a little bland but acceptable - she was ready to face what the (new) world had to throw at her.

Rasul had been wearing a particularly pathetic expression when she answered the door, and had kept up the sad puppy dog eyes all the way to the car (the effect was actually a little unsettling because of the strange way his eyes glittered, but she got the point) and was still doing it as they made their way toward Sophie-Anne's estate.

"Fine, I forgive you," she finally said in exasperation. "Now will you please keep your eyes on the road. Only one of us is indestructible, ya know."

"Ah, but I'm not indestructible. You've leveled my heart with your distrust and anger toward me," he said, sounding dramatically wounded.

Buffy snorted and rolled her eyes. "I'm sure you were all broken up about it."

"Well, I must admit, I'd be disappointed if you didn't accept the position," he said, grinning now that he knew he was forgiven. "We never get any interesting humans around there. They all either worship the ground we walk on or are scared shitless of us."

"I'm not taking the job just to entertain you," she said, shaking her head at him.

"Of course not. It's just a bonus," he said with a smirk as they pulled up to the gate.

Once out of the car, his professional demeanor dropped back in place and he escorted her to an office on the second floor without another word. He did give her a wink as he ushered her inside though. The lighthearted effect was ruined when he shut the door, closing her in the office, alone with Sophie-Anne while he remained out in the hall with the two giant Berts, who were guarding the entrance.

The Queen (Buffy wasn't sure she'd be able to get used to calling her that, even in her head) was dressed in a sharp blue business suit instead of a gown this time, but looked just as impeccable. She was sitting behind a desk that would've dwarfed her had her presence not been so heavy. Instead, it just added to the intimidation factor.

"Please sit," she said, waving her hand at the seat across from her without looking up from the papers in front of her.

Buffy sat as directed and awkwardly folded her hands in her lap to keep from fidgeting. They sat like that for a full minute, Buffy fighting the urge to break the silence and tapping a foot restlessly while Sophie-Anne read the paper in front of her, occasionally marking something with a pen. Finally she sat the pen down and focused her attention on Buffy.

"Have you made a decision?"

"Um, yeah, but I want to clarify. If you give me a job that I don't feel comfortable with, what's going to happen?"

"I don't let my employees pick or choose what they wish to do, Buffy. But I will take into consideration your… moral objections to certain tasks and assign you work accordingly."

"Well, I guess that would be-"

Just then the door burst open and another vampire came striding into the room. She looked pissed and stopped dead at the sight of Buffy. A scowling Rasul could be seen behind her in the hall, bent over and rubbing his shin.

"The fuck is this?" She asked, her lip curling back.

With her dark hair, dark eye makeup, leather pants and eloquent use of the English language, Buffy was immediately reminded of Faith.

"This is Buffy, she'll be working for me. Buffy, this is Hadley Delahoussaye."

"We need to talk," Hadley said, turning to Sophie-Anne and completely dismissing Buffy.

"I'm in the middle of something, Hadley. We'll have to talk later."

"Is it true?" Hadley asked, taking a stiff step further into the room, her hands clenching and unclenching at her sides. "About Threadgood?"

Buffy, who was watching the two like a tennis match, was surprised to see sadness flash across the queen's face before it smoothed back out into its normal bland expression.

"Later, Hadley," Sophie-Anne said, her voice brooking no argument.

Hadley took a deep breath and looked like she was about to let loose with a foul-mouthed tirade, but then she just deflated. She shook her head once at Sophie-Anne then turned and left without another word, her shoulders slumped and her stride much slower than when she'd come in. Despite seeming like she could be a total bitch and ignoring the fact that she obviously saw Buffy as having all the importance of a houseplant, she couldn't help but feel bad for her. She got the feeling there were some personal issues between her and the queen - issues that weren't going to end well for Hadley.

"My apologies," Sophie-Anne said, her eyes staring at the newly closed door for a moment longer before refocusing her attention on Buffy. "I believe you were about to accept the position I'd offered you? Someone came by to discuss the details, yes? The terms were acceptable?"

"Yes, it was all fine," Buffy said, straightening in her seat and putting on her resolve face. If she was going to do this, she was going to do it right, damn it. "So, what is it you want me to do?"

"There is an important job in Texas that might need a little… extra attention. If things there should go badly, not only would the relationship with the vampires of that area be strained, but I could also lose a few valuable assets."

"So, you already have people there working on this?" Buffy asked, confused, relieved and a little offended all at once.

"Yes, Bill Compton, the Investigator of Area Five is currently there with our telepath, Sookie Stackhouse. I have something I need Bill to work on for me, so it would be inconvenient to lose him. Even more so for Miss Stackhouse, who, as a genuine telepath is extremely valuable as you can imagine."

She seemed to waiting for a dumbfounded Buffy to say something, maybe just to make sure she was still following along, so Buffy nodded, "Right, probably hard to find one of those."

"Indeed," Sophie-Anne said, looking amused for a split second. "This is new for both of them, just make sure things go smoothly. You might not have to do anything at all. In fact, I do believe you won't be the only one there watching over them. Even though he hasn't asked permission to do so, the Sheriff of Area Five may also be around. He is very… willful."

"So I just have to go and keep an eye on those two?" Buffy asked. "Am I meeting them there? What's the job they're supposed to be doing?"

"Here is all the information you'll need," Sophie-Anne said, pulling a folder from the drawer of her desk and sliding it over to Buffy. "And they are actually already in Dallas, they arrived this evening. I have a flight booked for you first thing in the morning. And, as to you meeting them, I would rather you didn't. I ask that you remain… discreet. It will make using you for future jobs much simpler if your identity remains a secret."

"Of course," Buffy said, pasting on a confident smile. "Discreet is my middle name."

_Crap…_


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note** - I just want to point out that I've never seen True Blood, only read the SVM books. So those of you who have only seen TB and haven't read the books will probably see a lot of differences.

**Chapter Six**

The hot, dry air of Dallas whipped across Buffy's face from the window of her rental car. She could have just turned the air conditioner on, but after the staleness of the plane, she craved the fresh feeling of the wind on her face. She sighed and adjusted her sunglasses, blindly grabbing at the passenger seat for her directions to The Silent Shore Hotel (talk about a creepy name for a hotel, sounded like somewhere an axe wielding Jack Nicholson would feel at home). Flattening the paper against the steering wheel, she tried to make sure she was still heading in the right direction.

After nearly sideswiping another car and cutting abruptly across three lanes of traffic to get off at the correct exit, Buffy felt a sense of accomplishment as she pulled into the hotel's parking lot. She still wasn't the world's best driver, but at least she could get from point A to point B in a new city with no problems.

Turning off the ignition she picked up the file to study it again. The photo of Bill Compton was a close up where he was staring directly into the camera, but the picture of Sookie, while still clear, was obviously taken with a telephoto lens without her knowledge. Buffy took a moment to wonder what that meant. Wouldn't someone working for Sophie-Anne be okay with having her picture taken for records? Maybe she wasn't that willing of an employee…

She glanced up from the papers as a young man dressed in a hotel uniform exited the building and got in a car. She wished she could just go in, stake out the lobby, but she'd been warned about how tight the security was. There was no way they'd let someone just hang out all suspicious-like, staring at their customers as they came and went. She was taking enough of a risk just being in the parking lot like this.

Plucking at her shirt, which had begun to stick to her now that the air had stopped moving , she yawned and looked back at the folder. There really wasn't much in there actually. Pictures of Bill and Sookie, directions to the hotel they were staying at, directions to one Stan Davis' residence and what little information that had been given when they'd asked for help. Apparently Stan Davis, Sherriff of the Dallas Area, had requested some assistance with a matter he didn't want to give any details about. Sounded fishy to Buffy. She guessed he must have been paying a huge amount of money to get the Area Five Sheriff to agree to send his people without any prior knowledge of the job they'd be performing. It also explained why he'd feel the need to come along and watch over them, even without Sophie-Anne's permission.

Hours ticked by. Buffy counted the cars in the lot, then counted them by color, then by brands she recognized. She went through the scant file three more times, played I-Spy with herself (which only lasted one turn), and turned the car on and off for the air conditioning more times than she could count. So far, there'd been nothing interesting going on. No one was going in and the only people coming out were disheveled looking fang-bangers. She was just thinking about running down the street to a fast food place when two more people came out. She glanced at them uninterestedly - neither of them were blond and busty like the picture of Sookie, or bursting into flames as Bill would be, so she went back to staring longingly down the road toward the familiar (and apparently multi-dimensional) golden arches.

It took her about three seconds before she whipped her head back toward the couple making their way toward a dark green Caprice. It was the way they were dressed. The only people coming out of the hotel that day had been employees, who wore a uniform, or fang-bangers, who kind of had their own uniform as well - black was must, red was also popular, leather and tight were also high up on the list. These two were dressed very conservatively and in light colors. The man was in a light tan suit with penny loafers. _Penny loafers!_ Yeah, that totally set off her mental alarm, both as a lover of fashion and as the one watching for suspicious activity.

The girl was dressed in a long khaki skirt with a flowery top and sandals. Buffy took a moment to be a little jealous of the way she filled out the shirt before her eyes widened and she snatched up the photo of Sookie from the passenger seat. If the short brown bob was nothing more than a wig… Yep, the boobs looked like a match. She'd never tried to identify anyone by bust size before, but she was fairly certain this was her girl now that she was looking closer. The whole scene was just too out of place - Sookie must be working on whatever task Stan had given them while Bill slept the day away. The guy with her must be some kind of less flammable daytime help.

She started her car and followed them out of the parking lot and toward the freeway, grabbing the folder and stuffing it under the seat as she went, clipping a curb in the process. She patted her pockets, making sure she had all the fake IDs and credit cards that she'd been given on her. She'd been a little shocked at the quickness Sophie-Anne's team had gotten all the identification (naming her as Sunshine Smith from Florida - which had simultaneously made her want to laugh and gag) together, but what bothered her more was the fact they hadn't pressed about her _actual_ identity. That they weren't asking, that they didn't even seem _curious_, was worrying to her.

It meant they were digging.

What would they find? Was there another Buffy Summers here? Was that Buffy like her - a vampire slayer? Here that would just make her a homicidal maniac instead of a protector though. That was the worse case scenario - that Sophie-Anne would find out she's wanted for multiple vampire murders or something. Or maybe she was what she would have turned out to be had she never been called… A vapid California girl obsessed with nothing deeper than boys and fashion. Actually the whole idea wigged her out. She didn't like the thought of there being more than one her.

Rasul was the only one that had seemed at all interested about her past. But when he realized she wasn't going to talk about it, he dropped it without complaint. She smiled slightly at the thought of the vampire as she weaved through the traffic behind the Caprice. Rasul had been so disappointed to hear she was leaving so soon. Hoping for some more entertainment, she was sure. He'd been sullen all the way back to the hotel, but before he'd dropped her off, he'd perked up and said that when she got back he'd take her to all the vampire bars like he'd promised. She found herself looking forward to it. Even though she'd never say it out loud, he was at least as entertaining to her as she was to him.

The car in front of her slowed and got into the left turn lane, drawing Buffy's attention more firmly. Buffy watched as it turned into a large church's parking lot while she continued on past it, it would be too obvious if she followed it immediately into the lot. As she cruised by, she read the sign with dread, almost hitting the grassy median in the process.

"The Fellowship of the Sun Center - Only Jesus Rose from the Dead," she read aloud. "Great, a field trip to the crazy hate cult, just what the day needed."

What the heck was Sookie, who worked with and dated a vampire, doing there? And in disguise? The only thing she could figure was that it had something to do with the job the local sheriff had given her. Maybe he was having trouble with the Fots. Hmm, Fots, she liked that… Anyway, she couldn't imagine it'd be easy being the vamp in charge of the area where the Fots headquarters was. She wouldn't be surprised at all if this job had something to do with the two groups clashing.

Whatever it was that Sookie was doing there, Buffy decided she'd give her a little bit to work on it. She didn't want to bust in there and ruin whatever Sookie was doing after all. She pulled into an unfamiliar fast food place across the street and went in. She'd eat and then go over and check things out. For all she knew, the telepath wouldn't need any help at all.

As she ate, she wondered what it was like in there. Even though she wasn't too keen on the idea of going into The Center, she had to admit, she was curious. She'd read the accounts, seen their website, but seeing the organization in person was different. Would there be crosses made of stakes? Artsy pictures of dead vampires? Sermons every hour about the soulless creatures of the night and how they tempted innocent people to the dark side. She snorted into her milkshake at the thought.

Ten minutes later, she was back in the car and pulling into the Fellowship parking lot. She decided the more sneaky she could be, the better this would go. She wasn't exactly dressed as a potential convert in her black cargo pants and snug white tank top (she was starting to wonder who had picked out these clothes for her… she seriously needed to do some shopping on her own) and she admitted that cover stories and acting unsuspicious were maybe not her strong suit.

The parking lot wasn't very full, so she parked in a shady spot by the end of one of the wings, then used the shadows to hide herself as she crept to the outside door, forcing the lock and letting herself in silently. Inside the air was cool and had that unmistakable church smell. The hall was lit with harsh florescent lights, which were no good for skulking, but the low commercial carpeting absorbed her footsteps silently as she moved through the building. There weren't any pictures on the walls depicting gruesome vampire deaths much to her relief (and maybe a little disappointment), it all looked painfully normal. Her spidey sense was tingling though, much to her surprise. Something up ahead was setting it off. She paused by a closed door - this was where her senses had lead her, there was a vampire inside. Weirdly enough, something further away was also setting her off.

She squatted by the door, trying to listen in and listen for approaching footsteps at the same time.

"-will you do with the humans?" A bored, accented voice asked.

"We haven't quite decided yet," the voice of Steve Newlin, familiar to her from the website, said. "We're thinking of trading them for other vampires. But I believe they are just as guilty of sin as you are, Godfrey. I think they should meet the sun with you and Farrell and face their judgment. Tied to you."

Uh… had he really just said what she thought he did? He was going to stick some vampires out in the sun with people tied to them?

"Hmm," the voice answered, still sounding completely uninterested. "There is someone in the hall."

Silence fell over the room and Buffy blinked, stupidly surprised at being found out. Stupid heartbeat. Stupid breathing. Stupid brain for being so surprised at a vampire being in the building that it didn't add two and two and equal "oh crap I'm gonna get caught". Standing with a huff, she pushed the door open and stepped inside, politely closing it behind her.

Of course, she recognized Newlin from the website, but he hadn't been wearing such a pissy look then, instead he'd had a creepy smile. His head was also smaller in person… A pea-head really… The other guy, the vampire, was nothing more than a teenager. A very old teenager. She could practically feel the age rolling off of him. He was blond and shirtless, ancient tattoos spanned his arms and chest. They might've been black at one time, but now they were a faded blue. He watched her with only mild interest.

"How long have you been standing there?" Newlin snapped, standing up from behind his desk and pulling her from her examination.

"Oh, just long enough to hear you talking about murdering some people," she said with a shrug. "So, not that long."

"They consort with vampires. Only a vampire sympathizer would call that murder," Newlin said, regaining some of his composure and straightening. Maybe he was trying to look intimidating, or omniscient. The effect was lost because she kept thinking "pea-head" and giggling mentally like a fifth grader.

"I believe when you kill someone, that's called murder," Buffy said, with a "duh" look on her face. "But that's just me and all that crazy book learning, I guess."

"You believe they should be spared," the vampire asked her, showing some curiosity. "That killing them, despite the fact that they conspire with evil, would be wrong?"

"She's nothing but a vampire's whore, Godfrey. Her opinion doesn't-"

Her fist shot out, lightning fast, and caught Newlin in the face as soon as he stepped around the desk. His head snapped back and he was unconscious before he even had time to bring his hand to his bleeding nose. He crumpled to the floor in a tangle of limbs.

"Really, some people have no manners," she huffed. "And to answer your question, I think killing any person is wrong. No matter what they've done. I don't think any person has the right to make that decision."

"And vampires?"

She paused at that, unsure. "I'm… still deciding on that," she said honestly. She went on thoughtfully, thinking of the vampires she'd met here so far. "I think vampires have it harder, trying to do right. That maybe they're still who they were when they were human, but they're something else, too. Something that makes them want to do bad things. Like, amplifies the bad qualities they had when they were alive. So they have to work harder at being good."

"And those that have tried and failed? "

"If they can't, or won't, be something better. If they hurt and kill people. Then… I think, yes, they should die," she said sadly, a little disappointed in herself, but unsure exactly why. "I don't know that its really their fault though. And I think humans can be just as evil. So my opinion seems kinda hole-y."

But Godfrey didn't seem to see anything wrong with her thoughts. He looked thoughtful. "I hurt innocents. Children. Only death will stop me."

"That you realize that makes you better than most," she said. But even as she spoke the words, believed them, she knew she wasn't leaving this place while this vampire was still alive. No way could she risk him changing his mind, leaving here and going after more kids.

"You're thinking of killing me," he said, watching her curiously. "I can taste it in the air. Many have tried."

She remained silent.

"I am supposed to greet the sun tomorrow. There will be a gathering with press and spectators. I will see the sun rise for the first time in longer than I can remember - I will see the face of God."

"You really think God would want you to make a spectacle of forgiveness?" She said, with an eyebrow raise. Why she was here, arguing religious and moral standpoints with a vampire, instead of staking him and looking for Sookie, she wasn't sure. "That sounds about as likely as Him thinking you arriving at the pearly gates with a charred human strapped to you is a great idea. Very virtuous."

He stared at her in silence for a moment, indecision and confusion warring behind his eyes. Time was pressing in on her, pressuring her to move, but still she remained.

Finally, he nodded. "I will show you where the humans and the vampire are being kept. They should be able to choose their own fate."

He turned and walked out of the room, pausing in the hall to make sure she was following. She did so with a heavy heart. The longer she was here, in this world, the more she had to question everything she believed, change her ways of thinking. She was a little worried that when she got back it would be harder for her to be the unyielding vampire killing force she'd been before. It was different, the vampires back home weren't like these. But what she'd said to Godfrey could also be said of things back home - humans there _could_ be just as evil as vampires, and the vampires there were evil to the core, it was their nature. So why was it okay to kill a vampire but not a human? Then there had been Spike, who had seemed more like these vampires - a darker version of his previous self, but not an evil demon living in a host's skin. It was a dangerous line of thought to be following so she shut it down immediately.

They passed down the hall without any attempt at hiding. They walked right by open doors, people in them glanced out curiously, but none said anything and on they went. So much for being sneaky and unseen… Finally they came to a closed door at the end of the hall. Godfrey opened it and Buffy was surprised to see it led down. She could also tell that there was another vampire down there.

"You are different from the others. Completely unafraid," he said, glancing back at her as he descended the stairs. "You remind me…"

"Remind you? Of what?"

"It's hard to remember. It was so long ago…" he said, his voice soft and thoughtful as he faced forward again. "But you remind me of when I was alive. There was a goddess, Nerio, my father paid tribute to her. The goddess of war and valor. You remind me of her."

"Uh, thanks… I guess," Buffy said, distracted by the smell of blood in the air and the sound of a scuffle down below. "How about picking up the pace a little there, Godfrey. I know you're old and all, but can you move a little quicker?"

Instead of moving faster, he actually stopped and looked back at her in surprise. Then there was a flash of amusement, no more than a tiny twitch of his lips, and he was gone. She blinked at the empty space with her mouth hanging open. But then a woman's scream came from below and Buffy was bounding down the last of the stairs herself, awe at Godfrey's speed forgotten.

Another door was at the base of the stairs, but it was already standing open when Buffy got to it. She rushed through it and into a concrete hallway. The door to the left was open and she slid to a stop and took in the scene inside. There was Sookie, her clothes ripped, her face bruised and her wig and glasses gone. Her blond hair was damp and still pinned up as it would have needed to be under the wig. She was getting shakily to her feet and Buffy rushed over to help her. She flinched away at first, distrustful eyes glaring at Buffy.

"It's okay," she said, her voice low and soothing. "I'm here to help."

She looked at her closely, then cocked her head like she was listening for something before shaking it slightly and allowing Buffy to help her stand. Godfrey was standing to the right of the door, his arms wrapped around a muscle-y guy with a black crew cut in a bear hug that was lifting him off the ground. The man's pants were undone and his (pathetically small) package was out for the world to see. It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out what had been going on down here.

"Are you- Did he-" Buffy started, not sure how to delicately ask Sookie if she was okay.

She was shaking her head though. "No, Godric stopped him," she said, her voice southern in a way that made Buffy immediately think of collard greens and small towns and hot days spent fishing on a river.

"Godric… I thought your name was Godfrey?" She asked, completely distracted from the situation.

"It is both," he said with a shrug, looking completely bored once again. When he shrugged, the man he was holding flopped a little. That was when Buffy realized that he was dead, his face a purplish blue and his eyes wide open and unblinking.

She felt a flash of disappointment. But not at Godfrey - at herself, because she didn't seem to really care that Sookie's would-be rapist was dead. Lines were getting blurrier by the minute…

"Um, I don't think he's going anywhere…" She said with a vague wave at the dead man.

Godfrey spared the man a glance, then let him drop to the floor with a thud. Sookie gave a tiny choked off sound of disgust.

"We should get out of here, I'm not sure how long Newlin'll be out. He'll be raising the alarm as soon as he wakes up."

"Wakes up?" Sookie asked, confused. It hurt Buffy just looking at her, and not just because of the painful looking bruises - her hair was a _disaster_.

"She rendered him unconscious," Godfrey provided. "By punching him in the face."

Sookie looked shocked for a second, then started to giggle.

"I'd been in his office less than a minute and he called me a whore. That's just rude," Buffy said, crossing her arms. Sookie giggled harder. Maybe she was going into shock…

"How long until sunset?" She asked, glancing over at the other door where she could sense another vampire.

"Only about fifteen minutes," Godfrey answered.

"Oh no! Hugo!" Sookie said, going pale and sobering in a heartbeat.

"Hugo?"

"The man I came here with. They put him in there, with Farrell, who hasn't eaten since he's been taken…"

"They locked some innocent person in there with a starving vampire?" Buffy asked, horrified and striding quickly to the closed door.

"Well, not exactly innocent," Sookie said slowly from behind her. "He was a spy for the Fellowship."

Buffy yanked the door open, ready to see a horrific scene, but hoping maybe she'd gotten there in time. Inside, the vampire was chained to the wall in what had to be silver, but the manacles were over his shirt on his wrists and over his pants on his ankles, so the damage was probably minimal. He was looking rather rosy though for a vamp who'd been locked up and "starving". He was watching her curiously and she swept her gaze over to the figure a few feet from him. Face down on the floor was the familiar tan suited man she remembered seeing Sookie with. And he was breathing. She looked at the vampire in surprise.

He just gave a shrug. "Not my type," he said, his voice lined with a Texas twang. "Made it easier to control myself. Didn't want to give those bastards the pleasure."

Godfrey came in the room then, brushing by Buffy and moving toward Farrell. The chained vampire hunched and hissed at him, fangs coming out.

"Oh, shut up," Buffy said with an eye roll. "He's going to unchain you."

"He's the reason I'm chained in the first place!" Farrell barked.

"And now he's letting you go, so get over it," Sookie said, stepping up beside Buffy and putting her hands on her hips.

After a moment of looking astonished at being chastised by two human females, Farrell sighed, and sat still and sullen while Godfrey used a key to unlock the chains, being careful not to touch them.

While Farrell was straightening his clothes and rubbing his wrists, Buffy turned to Sookie.

"So, let me get this straight. You came here looking for this guy, right? Farrell? You came here to spy on the Fellowship to see if they had him, with a guy who was _already_ a spy _for _the Fellowship," Buffy said, then turned her attention to Godfrey. "And you were going to commit sunny suicide and the Fotsers were going to stick Farrell out there with you with the two humans strapped to you so they'd go out in a blaze of glory, too? All while a bunch of people, and the press, watched?"

"They were going to tie us to the vampires to burn to death?" Sookie asked, her eyes wide and she was almost as pale as Godfrey. Buffy had to give her credit though, she pulled her self together quickly.

"What is a… Fotser?" Godfrey asked, his head cocked, making him look like the teenager he'd been when he died.

"A Fellowship of the Sun-er. Hey, somebody grab Hugo," she said, moving toward the stairs. It was time to get this show on the road. "Fotsers, easier to say, and more fun, too. Sounds like Scottish cursing or something, doesn't it? 'I'll get that Fotser!' or 'You're gonna get your Fotsing ass kicked!'"

"You're brain is… weird…" Sookie said, panting behind her as they climbed the stairs.

"I've heard that before. Kinda rude coming from someone I just rescued though," Buffy said, glancing back at the little crowd behind her.

Sookie was limping slowly behind her, her eyes drilling holes in Buffy's head and her brow furrowed like she was concentrating really hard. Behind her was Godfrey, who was smiling slightly, apparently amused either by Buffy or the whole situation. And behind him was Farrell, who had Hugo slung over his shoulders like a sack of grain.

Once at the top of the stairs, they paused, all of them trying to think of the best way to get out of there.

"I'll go to the right and I'll take this one back to Stan's with me," Farrell said, giving Hugo a little shake. "We'll attract less attention if we split up. Plus I have to wait for the sun to fully set."

Buffy looked at Farrell closely. She didn't like the idea of A) leaving him behind B) leaving him behind _with_ a human, and C) leaving a human with him period. Glancing at Sookie, she saw her eyeing Farrell the same way.

"I have an agreement with Stan," she said, her southern voice steely. "You make sure Hugo gets back there safely or there'll be a problem."

Farrell, just nodded good naturedly. "Will do, Miss." Then he disappeared down the hall to the right.

Sookie, Godfrey and her went to the left. Sookie was leaning heavily on Buffy's shoulder as they made their way quietly down the hall. Buffy half wanted to just scoop her up, but wasn't quite ready to completely throw "discreet" out the window just yet. And Godfrey looked like he hadn't seen a good bloody meal in a month, so no way was she letting _him_ carry Sookie around.

Miracle of all miracles, they made it to the exit on the left end of the church with no problems. They'd had to step into an empty room a few times to avoid being seen, but that was it. Apparently there was some kind of lock-in going on that night, so most people were headed to the main church area, which they were able to avoid with Godfrey's knowledge of back halls.

Finally at the door Buffy had come in through, she pushed it open and stepped into the sunlight with Sookie in tow. The air felt fresh and clean after the basement, and the open space felt wonderful after the tense walk through the hallways. She stopped with Sookie about ten feet from the exit and turned back to Godfrey, who had stayed inside just beyond the reach of the light.

"I believe you were going to kill me?" He asked, his eyes shining oddly in the dark as he stared at her.

"Do I have to?" She asked seriously.

"...no," he answered. "Meeting you has been interesting. _You _are interesting. I am glad we met… Nerio. It is much to ask, but would you witness my end?"

Buffy nodded and stood in the sun, watching Godfrey in the shadows. Beside her, Sookie began to cry.

"That's nice. Someone to cry for me at the end, I hardly expected that," he said, giving her a slightly curious look. His gaze turned toward Buffy once more for a long moment, then he stepped out into the light. The sun was a glowing orange ball on the horizon and it painted the sky around it in pinks and purples, it gave his formerly pale and lifeless countenance a warm glow.

"Beautiful," he said, wonder spreading across his face as he took in a sight he hadn't seen in what Buffy was guessing was a couple thousand years.

Then he burst into flames.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

Sookie followed the short blond woman slowly through the tree shadowed edge of the parking lot, tears still streaming down her face. She wanted them to stop, but it was as if Godric's death was the straw that broke the camel's back. Her sorrow heaped on top of the stress and fear of the last few hours was just too much to hold in. To make it worse, the other girl hadn't shed one tear - her face like stone as she watched Godric burn, not turning away (like Sookie had) until he was ash. Now she walked ahead of her, head held high and back straight. It made Sookie feel weak and pathetic as she limped along in her wake, crying like a baby.

She was shorter than Sookie, and smaller, more fine boned. But she gave off an air of strength and confidence that made her seem larger than her physical stature. Sucking in a shuddering breath, Sookie pulled herself together and willed the waterworks to stop.

"What's your name?" She asked, her voice still a little watery.

"…Buffy," she answered after a slight hesitation.

She glanced back as she told her, her face set as if she expected her to say something about her name. Sookie just nodded at her. No way was she throwing stones in that glass house.

The sun's rays had disappeared beyond the horizon as they arrived at the car, pinks and purples fading into blues as night crept in. The loss of light reminded her of Bill.

"Do you have a phone?"

"Should be one there in the middle console," Buffy answered as they both got in.

She dialed quickly as Buffy started the car, hoping to catch him before he got Barry's message and left to tear the Fellowship apart. Luck, showing her a little pity after the day she'd had, was with her and he hadn't left yet.

"Sookie, I was just on my way to the Fellowship to retrieve you," he said, his cool voice washing over her as if she'd laid down in a creek. "The bellboy said you were in some kind of trouble."

"I was, but I'm okay now," she said, closing her eyes in relief. Oh how she wished she was already there with him. "I'm on my way back to the hotel now."

"I will wait here for you then. Did you find Farrell?"

"Yep, could you call Stan and let him know that Farrell and Hugo are on their way to him?"

"I can. Will you tell me what happened?"

"I will when I get there," Sookie hedged. "I'll be there soon, okay?"

Bill agreed, but sounded less than happy at being put off. That was too bad, no way was she telling him she'd gotten beaten up and almost raped over the phone.

Sookie opened her eyes as the car started moving and put the phone back in the console. When she looked back up she noticed the frantic movement that had started around the Fellowship building as they angled toward the exit. People had started rushing around like an ant hill that had gotten stepped on - a handful were rushing toward cars. Buffy must have seen them too, because she rocketed out of the parking lot with a squeal of tires, cutting off three cars and leaving a wake of blaring horns behind her.

Leaning forward to look in the rearview, Sookie saw one car separate from the pack in the parking lot and zoom out after them.

"Could you put on your seatbelt?" Buffy asked, sounding completely unbothered by the whole situation. Sookie quickly buckled up, mentally agreeing that a seatbelt would be important in a car chase.

They continued down the side roads, weaving through traffic at scary speeds, twice rolling over a curb as they whipped around corners and ripping the passenger side mirror off during a close call with a road sign.

Turning around in her seat, since her mirror was gone, Sookie looked for the white car that had been following them. They'd just gotten on the freeway and with night having fallen on them it made it hard to tell what cars were what, but she felt confident that their pursuers hadn't made that last turn in time.

"I think you lost them," she said, still squinting behind her.

"Lost who?" Buffy asked, zigzagging through the tight traffic.

"The people that were following us…"

"People were following us?"

Sookie gaped at her, wondering if she was serious. She seemed to be, but all Sookie had to go on was her facial expression since her mind was a mystery.

That brought about an interesting point. One that she now had the time to examine further. When she'd said before that her brain was strange, Buffy had thought she just meant she was weird (and she was) but she'd really meant the state of the inside of Buffy's head. Her thoughts. They weren't colored snarls like people that were just hard to read, nor were they heavy and unreadable like those of a shifter, but they weren't silent like a vampire either. Her head was something completely new, and now that they were away from the Fellowship she was able to be properly fascinated.

The only way she could think to describe Buffy's thoughts was like the picture on a television with one of those rabbit ear antennas. Everything was all fuzzy, but underneath that, there were images. Sometimes you could make out that it was a person or a building, but that was only after some staring. Sometimes you could move the antenna a little and get a better picture, but it only lasted a second before it was gone again. She'd also gotten some bursts of random feelings. So far, what she'd read from Buffy was the feeling of determination as they'd been leaving, wary suspicion as Farrell offered to take Hugo, and a random image of cookie dough ice cream as they'd crept down the hall. She'd known it was rude, poking into someone's mind like that, but it was so _different_. She'd been curious. Still was actually, and now she went back to moving her antenna a little more, trying to get a clearer picture.

At first there was nothing, just white noise. As she stared harder at the static-y image, she was able to pick up movement. She concentrated harder. There! A random sound! An unfamiliar woman's voice, probably a vampire given the smooth, cold quality.

"…_discreet." _

But it was gone as quickly as it'd come. Refocusing, she tried to get a grasp of what was beyond the fuzz. After a moment, she got a glimpse of a crypt followed by a smiling redheaded woman. She tried to grab onto the image and stay in Buffy's strange thought flow. Suddenly everything snapped into bright focus, leaving her breathless. Looking around, Sookie was amazed at what she saw.

A vast desert lay in front of her, so clear and so bright it was if she were actually there. Looking down, she saw that she was still wearing her torn and stained Fellowship disguise. She held her hand out, looking at the familiar appendage and feeling panic start to creep up on her. Every groove and line lay there familiarly, even the nail that she'd bent back on the fall on the stairs showed its damage. This was itoo/i real. Looking up, her chest started to tighten in fear as the hot dry breeze swept her across her face and pulled at her hair. Grains of sand picked up by the wind struck her bare arms and face, making her itchy, and more sand was blowing into her sandals - she could feel its texture under her toes.

Suddenly something was behind her. This heavy, unexplainable presence that made her want to flinch away. She turned to look, meaning to go slowly, but whipping around in her fear. Dark eyes met hers from only about three inches away. A black and white painted face and wild unkempt black hair were just a hazy impression this close. But those eyes - those wild, almost crazed, eyes made her shake inside.

"Out!" It yelled in her face.

She jerked back, closing her eyes and cringing.

"Uh, are you having some kind of post traumatic stress thing?"

Sookie snapped her eyes open to see she was back in the car, Buffy looking over at her with raised eyebrows.

"N-no, I'm fine," she said, straightening in her seat. She took a second to wonder what the hell that had been, but then just as quickly pushed it away. She wasn't sure she wanted to know, and she definitely didn't have the brain power to put into it right now.

"Okay, good," Buffy said, sounding disbelieving but letting it drop much to Sookie's relief. "So, if you're alright, then you might want to do something with your hair, because, well, its-"

Sookie's eyes widened and she snapped down the visor, giving a little cry of horror as she took in her sweat-matted and still pinned hair. She felt tears threatening again but viciously pushed them away. No way was she looking like a weak cry baby in front of the other woman again.

"So, uh, listen. What happened back there, see, I wasn't really supposed to do that," Buffy said, squirming a little in her seat and making a dangerous lunge across two lanes of traffic to get off at the exit. "What I mean is, I'm supposed to be 'discreet'. So, is there anyway you can leave me out of your report or whatever?"

"Discreet while you did what? And how do you know I have to make a report?" Sookie asked, pausing in pulling the pins out of her hair. Then looking at her surroundings, she asked, "And how did you know I was staying at The Silent Shore?"

"Um, see, that's not really something I can say," she said, rolling over another curb as they pulled into the parking lot. "So, can we just leave me out of all this. Forget I was here?"

Sookie was finger combing her still nasty, but less horrid looking hair and she was just about bursting with questions. But then she remembered Buffy and Godric appearing in the bunker and she deflated. Who knew where she'd be now if they hadn't shown up... To keep questioning her when she'd asked her not to, well that would be mighty ungrateful...

"Well, Farrell saw you too, so I can't exactly leave you out all together. But I can just tell them I don't know who you are or where you came from or what you were doing there. Which is pretty much the truth."

"Hmm, I forgot about Farrell. Okay, I guess that's as good as it gets then," she pulled up to the lobby and gave her a little smile. "It was nice meeting you, Sookie."

"Thanks, Buffy," she said sincerely. Then she got out of the car before she either burst into tears again or started with all the questions buzzing around in her head. She wondered if she'd ever see her again…

* * *

><p>Buffy slept the rest of that night and most of the next day away. Waking just before sunset with her head feeling full and heavy from too much sleep. She had a moment of panic when she saw the clock and thought about all those hours Sookie and Bill had went unwatched. She hoped that the other woman's injuries had kept her in. Then of course she felt guilty for thinking such a thing.<p>

After gulping down some coffee and a quick shower, she started to feel human again. This was just pathetic. Things had been so boring for her at home over the past year that one day of excitement wears her out. Speaking of home… When she got back to New Orleans she ireally/i needed to start looking for a way back. Not that she actually had to igo/i immediately, but she should at least start looking. But that didn't really matter now - she was stuck here in Dallas until Bill and Sookie left.

She wasn't really looking forward to getting back and facing Sophie-Anne anyway. Being secret identity girl wasn't really her specialty and she had a feeling the Queen wasn't going to be happy with her actions here. Hell, she hadn't even given Sookie her fake name. But when faced with actually calling herself "Sunshine" she just couldn't do it.

Exiting the hotel, she was stumped when she got to her rental car. She had two flat tires… how had _that_ happened…

Fishing the phone out of the car (she really should've taken it in but was afraid Sophie-Anne would call for a progress report… or would call because she'd already received one), she called the rental agency and whined about the unreliable car they'd given her. They apologized profusely and said they'd get someone out there to fix it as soon as they could.

Deciding she couldn't just wait around, she had the hotel call her a cab and within ten minutes was heading toward The Silent Shore. The traffic was heavy, as it always seemed to be in Dallas. But, being from L.A., Buffy was immune to it. She sat quietly and watched the people in the other cars, wondered what their stories were. Even though the sun had set, the sodium lights along the freeway made the other vehicles and their passengers stand out in vivid relief. Were they heading home to wives? Husbands? Children? Were they headed into the city for a date or a night out with friends? Buffy wondered what it said about her that she no longer wished that she was going to do such things.

Glancing over at the traffic going in the opposite direction, which was moving just as slowly, Buffy did a double take at the familiar person creeping along in a black sedan. She'd never seen Bill Compton in person, but he looked just as stern and pale as his profile picture. And there, in the passenger seat, looking bruised and tired, was Sookie Stackhouse.

Buffy cursed and told the driver to get off at the next available exit and turn in the other direction. When asked where exactly they were going, she took a minute to respond. They must be going to Stan Davis's house, the Sherriff of the Dallas Area. She didn't remember his address and didn't have the file on her, but she did remember the street name.

"Green Valley Road," she told the driver.

It took even more time for the cab to maneuver its way across the lanes to an exit, and to Buffy's now impatient eyes, it seemed like the other direction was moving even more slowly. But eventually they got there. Buffy figured she was maybe twenty minutes behind. Not too bad.

_What could really go wrong in twenty minutes?_

She slapped her palm against her forehead - she knew better that to have a thought like that! Now who knew what the hell she'd find there!

The driver dropped her off at the start of the residential road since she didn't know the address and she didn't want to draw attention to herself by being in a cab creeping down the street. He looked a little relieved as she got out.

The area was high class. Large houses on small, perfectly manicured lawns. She walked down the sidewalk, trying to blend in and not get noticed. Finding the Sherriff's house wasn't too hard, she just followed her senses to the horde of vampires beeping away on her radar. What made things a little more difficult was the groups of men surrounding the house with guns - creeping through bushes and Stan's neighbors yards, crouching behind cars.

_You've gotta be freaking kidding me…_

What kind of idiots attacked a nest of vampires with guns? _Fotsers_, her mind immediately provided. Yep, seemed crazy and stupid enough for them. She crouched down behind an SUV further down the road, waiting for them to spread out more before she started slinking forward. She took a brief moment to wonder about the amount of time she spent saving vampire ass these days, but then had to focus on the men with guns fully, as she'd come up right behind two of them.

They were whispering furiously between each other, not questioning if what they were doing was right or wrong, not wondering about killing the humans that were probably inside, no, they were arguing about how long to stick around after they started shooting. Did they have time to reload? For one more clip? Having heard enough, Buffy stepped up behind them and knocked their heads together like they Larry and Curly and she was Moe. They crumpled to the ground and she kicked their guns away. After a quick search, she found a phone on one and called the police.

"911, what's your emergency?"

"I live on Green Valley Road, and, oh dear," Buffy said, putting on her best old lady impression. "There's a bunch of young men outside with guns!"

"Guns, ma'am?"

"Oh yes, I can see them out the front window, hiding in some bushes, and there's more in the back! On the patio!"

"I'm sending a unit ma'am, are they trying to get in?"

"Oh, no, they're not even looking at my house. They're all around that nice vampire's house, next door."

The dispatcher sounded a little sharper after that, but Buffy hung up quickly. She had more work to do before the cops showed after all.

Staying to the shadows and moving quickly and silently, Buffy began a sweep around the house. Knocking out men left and right. It was almost _too_ easy. Until she got to the backyard of one of Stan's neighbors anyway.

There were a cluster of four back there, looking surreal among the potted blooming hibiscus, the propane grill and the delicately canopied patio. Sneaking past a garden gnome, Buffy took a moment to lament the fact that these four hadn't spread out more - she really didn't want to get shot tonight. With a sigh, she decided to just get it over with, the cops would be here soon and she didn't want to be around when they showed.

Leaping forward she caught the closest man in the jaw with a right hook, dropping him and kicking away his gun before the other three had even realized something was up. The next was only three steps away and she kicked him in the stomach, then kneed him in the face as he doubled over, grabbing his wrist in the same move and twisting it until the gun dropped. The third was raising his gun when she got to him, but she easily ducked under his aim and came up with a sharp uppercut that sent him sailing and gun clattering to the ground.

The fourth fired.

She dove to the side, rolling up onto her feet just in time to see the shot hit the propane tank on the grill.

That was when everything went all 'splodey.

* * *

><p>Eric walked through the house of Stan Davis, surveying his surroundings in boredom. Davis most certainly didn't know how to throw a party. Everyone was smiling and polite, laughing and mingling, drinking was only done in privacy. Where were the animal hides? The orgies? The bloodshed? Feh, such was this age, he supposed.<p>

He finally spotted the one thing that might alleviate his ennui. Sookie Stackhouse - Telepath Extraordinaire. He smirked as he drew closer. She amused him and more that that, she was valuable. Possessing her would be very advantageous.

Plus, he was interested in hearing more about her adventures thus far in Dallas. There was something she was leaving out of her encounter at the Fellowship Center. Something to do with the mysterious woman that helped her there. Davis's people had believed the rescuer to be a shapeshifter, as they'd heard rumors of the shifter community having spies inside the Fellowship. Sookie had reinforced this idea by saying she'd been unable to read the person's mind, "almost like a shifter". He'd taken note of her word choice. She'd given Davis and his people the same story she'd given him and Bill the night before when she'd come limping into the hotel.

He still wasn't buying it.

She glanced up at him and he almost smiled at the look of dread and exasperation on her face. She really was entertaining.

"How are you?" He asked, settling on the couch next to her and taking in her drawn and bruised appearance.

"Better than I look," she said, not looking at him.

He wondered if that was true, but decided he really didn't care.

"You've seen Hugo and Isabel?" He asked. When she only nodded, he pressed - curious if she would agree with the human's punishment for betraying the vampires. "Appropriate, don't you think?"

"In a way, yes. I-"

Suddenly her words cut off and she tilted her head slightly, her gaze traveling toward the window. She tensed and paled, but stayed still and silent.

"What is it?" He asked, keeping his body relaxed and his voice calm. But really, he was ready for an attack. Actually, given how boring this party was, he'd welcome one.

She swallowed hard and glanced at him and back to the window, then to him again.

"Sookie," he said, his posture unchanging but his voice hard.

"There are men from the Fellowship surrounding the house. They have guns."

Eric raised his eyebrows, surprised at their audacity but not their stupidity. "And you were reluctant to say this because? Are you worried about us killing them? Because you know if they were to open fire, the ones that would be in the most danger are the humans in here, not us."

"That's not it. It's just-" she paused and looked uncertain while she shifted nervously in her seat. "It's because _she's_ out there. She's taking care of them - half of them are already unconscious."

"She?" He asked, leaning forward curiously. "The woman from the Fellowship?"

Sookie nodded. "Eric, she doesn't want any attention. She's trying to keep off the vampire radar for some reason. She saved my life-"

"I won't say anything," he said, standing, then smirking. "But I am going to check out things for myself."

That made Sookie look both relieved and more anxious at the same time. He didn't give her a chance to complain though, he moved off through the crowd, easy and relaxed, not drawing any attention. He slipped outside easily, unnoticed despite his size. The night air was warm and still, but now that he was out there, he could smell the humans. And the blood. Sookie seemed to believe their would-be attackers were only unconscious, but obviously the mystery woman wasn't gentle about it.

Gliding through the front yard, he caught sight of two of the unconscious men crumpled by the bumper of a neighbors vehicle. He kept going, down the side of the house until he got to the corner, where he paused. He peered around just in time to see the woman launch an attack on four men on the neighbors back patio.

She was _incredible_.

He stepped around the corner, feet carrying him away from his cover and closer as he watched her graceful but brutal dance as she took down man after man. He'd been so intent on watching her that he was actually surprised when he heard the gun discharge. She dove, her choice of direction happening to be right toward him. She stood, back to him, and went tense, then whipped around toward him. She didn't even get two strides before the explosion hit. He wasn't sure if she dove or if the explosion hurtled her toward him, but the outcome was the same. She smacked into him, her small body somehow managing to knock him to the ground.

Sirens wailed in the distance and the canopy was ablaze, but none of those things mattered to him. All of his attention was focused on the body sprawled out on top of his. Blond hair, a few shades darker than his own, was spread out over his chest, lean legs tangled with his own and one small, delicate fingered hand resting on his bicep. She stirred, lifting her head and looking up at him slowly. Big green eyes met his, blinking in innocent confusion, while soft, pink lips parted in surprise. Then her entire expression changed, morphing into aggravated annoyance. Green eyes going flinty and cold while her mouth pulled into a tight little snarl.

His fangs ran out.

She smelled _divine_. Dangerous and sweet rolled into one, and there was something there… Something that screamed at his instincts "off limits" but drew him in just the same. He was about a second from ravishing her right there on the lawn next to the raging fire when the unmistakable sound of a gun cocking snapped him to attention.

He was about to roll her, at least take the bullet himself before going after the idiot Fellowship shooter, but she moved first. Lithe body stretching across his while her hand shot out, snatching something up from beside them. His sharp eyes barely had time to identify it as one of those silly gnome statues humans sometimes stuck in their gardens before she whipped it at the gunman with unerring aim, hitting him directly in the face and knocking him instantly unconscious.

"Ouch, gnome to the dome," she said, popping up to her feet with amazing agility and brushing herself off. "Sorry, Fotser, gnome an is shooting me tonight." She glanced down at him with a little grin. "Gnome an - no man - get it?"

He stared at her blankly.

"Gnome-y don't play dat?"

He raised a brow.

"I am gnomero uno?"

He shook his head.

"Do you speak English?" She finally spat out, putting her hands on her hips and pouting cutely. She was _so strange_.

"I was about to ask you the same thing."

"Oh, so punning's just a lost art here, then?"

"We should be so lucky…"

"What, are you some kind of gnomeaphobe?"

He felt himself start to smile and despite his taste telling him not to, he shot back, "You don't gnome me, so don't make such assumptions."

She stared at him for a second before breaking out into a radiant smile.

"That was terrible," she giggled.

The sudden squeal of tires and fast approaching sirens cut off his reply. She cringed as she looked toward the road and gave him an apologetic shrug.

"Sorry to leave you with the mess, but that's my cue," she said, then spun and took off.

He shot to his feet, confident in his ability to catch her despite her surprising speed. But suddenly Joseph Velasquez, Davis's chief of security, was right next to him, fangs out and looking around with fury.

"What is this?"

He hadn't seen her, Eric realized. He could give her up, explain what happened and go after her. But then Davis's people would want to question her. Possessiveness washed through him. Whoever, _whatever, _she was, no one was getting their hands on her but him. But the Fellowship men had seen her, so he couldn't leave her out all together. Sniffing the air and finding the smoke sufficiently masking odors, he made his decision - barely half a second having passed since Velasquez's question.

"I thought I saw something from a window and came out to check. A woman, blond and short, was here, she'd already taken out the gunmen before I arrived. She went that way just moments ago," he said, pointing in the opposite direction than where she'd really disappeared.

Velasquez nodded and then sent a scowl toward the front of the house where they could hear more police cars pulling up. No doubt he was lamenting the fact that he wouldn't be getting his fangs into the would-be attackers. As Velasquez marched toward the commotion, Eric sent one last intense look toward the rear of the property before following.

This wasn't over.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight**

Buffy eyed the large building warily from the backseat of the black town car. It towered above them, foreboding and even darker than the night sky.

"Are you sure this is the right place?" She asked again.

"Yes," the vampire driver answered, starting to sound annoyed. "This is where I was directed to take you, you'll find what you need in the envelope."

Buffy fiddled with the lumpy envelope in her hand, still unsure. The driver, a short bald man, had been waiting for her when she'd arrived at the airport in New Orleans, sent by Sophie-Anne and directed to give her the envelope and take her to this location before their meeting together.

"Are you going to wait here?" Buffy asked. She was supposed to see the Queen in an hour, it seemed like a long time for him to just hang out doing nothing, but she wasn't sure what she was doing here and she didn't really want him to leave.

"No, someone else will be taking you," he answered, sounding relieved at that.

"Oh, okay then…" Buffy said, reluctantly getting out of the car. The driver followed and went around to the trunk where he pulled her two bags out, sat them on the sidewalk, and left without another word.

"Jeez, you'd think I was bad company or something," she pouted, slinging the duffle bag over her shoulder and tugging the suitcase behind her toward the entrance. She stopped in the bright circle provided by the security lighting and looked around. The main door was plain and flat - no windows or decoration. A security camera sat directly above it, making her shift her weight uncomfortably as it stared down at her.

Letting go of her suitcase and opening the envelope, she found a key and four plastic cards. She looked around the entrance door and didn't see a key hole, but finally did spot the card reader. Pulling out the cards, she saw they were different colors and someone had conveniently stuck a post-it on each one with 1, 2, 3 or ELV on it. She stuck number one in the slot and waited for a second, then heard the door locks disengage.

Inside was a plain, dim, gray hallway with no doors except one at the end, about twenty feet away. Two more cameras were in here. Reaching the door, she slid card number two into the reader, passed to the other side and proceeded to do the whole thing one more time.

Talk about paranoid…

Once she was past all the doors she ended up at an elevator. Stepping in slowly and looking around, she was confused not to see any buttons, only another card read. With an "ah ha!" she pulled out the ELV labeled card and stuck it in. The elevator started moving, soft classical music starting up and playing in the background as it went.

Her Slayer senses pinged here and there as she went up, letting her know some supernatural beings were in the building. She wondered what she was doing here. Was she supposed to be seeing someone? Or staying here? Or picking something or someone up? Stuffing the cards in her back pocket, she pulled out the key and looked at it closely. It had an "H" engraved on it and a little blue tassel hanging from it.

The elevator dinged and the doors opened, allowing her to cautiously step out into a hall much different from the bare and prison-like ones below. Thick carpeting covered the floor and little tables of fresh flowers popped up periodically down the hall's length. She walked slowly, the luxurious carpet absorbing the sound of her steps and the wheels of her luggage. The paintings that hung on the walls were all interesting and different - no pictures of bowls of fruit or potted flowers. One was of a lighthouse, the brushstrokes heavy and dark. The next a geisha, light and detailed. Buffy found there wasn't one she passed that she didn't like.

So intent on studying the paintings, Buffy almost passed "H" right by. Stopping suddenly, she turned to face the heavy wooden door fully and shuffled her feet a little. Should she knock? She had a key though, didn't that mean she should just go in? Before she could make a decision, the door behind her, "G", opened.

"Hey there, neighbor, good to see you got back in one piece."

Buffy whipped around at the familiar voice and accompanying vampire tingle.

"Rasul? What are you- do you _live_ here?"

"Well, as much as I 'live' anywhere."

"Funny," she said, grinning slightly and rolling her eyes. Her brows snapped down as she suddenly recalled his words. "Wait… did you say 'neighbor'?"

"Uh-huh, welcome home, Buffy," he said in an overly sugared voice.

"Did this happen by accident or are you supposed to be keeping an eye on me?" She asked, starting to feel prickly at the thought of a babysitter.

"Neither, I knew the place across the hall from mine was open so I just recommended it," he said with a shrug. "The building's owned by the queen, so it was an obvious choice anyway."

"Aww, isn't that cute! You missed me!" She said, giving him a huge grin. It was his turn to roll his eyes.

She was actually glad to have him across the hall if this was to be where she'd be staying. Speaking of which… She turned back to the door and used the blue tasseled key to open it.

Inside was… not what she'd been expecting.

From where she was standing, she could only see the living room. Modernly square black couches sat on squat little chrome legs facing a mammoth flat screen. Big chrome lamps and a zebra printed rug added so much testosterone that she thought her living room might actually start flexing and burping. It was the ultimate bachelor pad. For her. Buffy. Buffy in the bachelor pad.

"Who decorated this place?" She asked, unable to look at it any more and turning to back to Rasul.

Rasul coughed and looked away as he pushed his own door open further, revealing a mirror image to her own apartment.

"You bobbsey twinned our apartments?"

"They asked me to take care of it, so I just called the decorator and had them do the same thing over again. It was easier than me going out trying to pick out girly things…"

She shook her head and snorted at his dread of "girly things" and went in, hearing him close his own door and follow her. Leaving her bags in the entrance way, she took a little tour of her new place. The apartment was spacious and very luxurious - Buffy almost groaned out loud in ecstasy when she saw the huge whirlpool tub. Large windows (covered with heavy black curtains courtesy of Rasul's decorator) provided a great view, she guessed she was maybe fifteen or so floors up. But the masculine vibe permeated every room - the king sized bed even had black silk sheets, for god's sake. It wasn't _bad_, just not _her_.

Going back into the living room, she saw Rasul on the couch and went over and flopped down next to him.

"Oof," she grunted, as her butt and spine complained. The couch may look sleek and modern, but felt like sitting on a boulder. "I'm a human, Rasul. I have soft parts-"

"Oh, I noticed," he said with a leer.

"-that need cushioning," she finished, glaring at him. "This isn't going to work."

"The couches soften up after some use. But I left the card for the decorators on the table, just call them and have them take back the stuff you don't want," he said, uncaring. "Have them redo it or go pick out stuff yourself. It'll have to stay like it is for now though, we're leaving in fifteen minutes."

Buffy snapped herself out her of her shopping daydreams and looked at the clock - the time she was supposed to be meeting with Sophie-Anne was fast approaching. She grimaced.

"Uh-oh, what did you do?" Rasul asked, leaning forward and grinning.

"Nothing," Buffy said too quickly. "Now get out, I'm not getting a shower while you hang out in here. You have pervy peeper written all over you."

He left with only little complaint, leaving Buffy to get ready. She didn't have time to enjoy the tub like she really wanted to do, but she did hop in the shower, which was big enough for six people and had more settings than she would probably ever use. She wasn't really able to enjoy it though, her stomach was knotted at the thought of facing Sophie-Anne and explaining to her that she'd been… well, _less_ than discreet.

She met Rasul in the hall when she was ready. He was leaning against the wall, dressed in his guard uniform. He tried to pry out of her what had happened on her mission as they rode the elevator down, but she refused to give him anything - both because she wasn't sure if it was against the rules or anything to tell him (all she needed was another way to piss the queen off), and because she didn't want to admit to her unstealthy-like actions.

They exited the building in a different way than she'd come in. They were going to the parking garage this time, Rasul had explained. The security was just as tight as it had been at the entrance, prompting Buffy to ask about it.

"Since the building is owned by Sophie-Anne," Rasul explained as he swiped his first card. "There are a lot of people that work for her in this building."

"Vampires," Buffy said.

"Yes, vampires, who are completely vulnerable during daylight hours and need a secure place to rest. But also regular people, like you, or half demons like Cataliades and his nieces, that might be of interest to enemies of the queen."

"Oh, I guess that makes sense," she said, following him through the last door and into the parking garage. "But the doors will only stop them if they don't have the key cards. What if they steal some?"

"Well, they'd have to have all the cards and use them in the right order, firstly," Rasul said, opening Buffy's door for her then going around to the driver's side and getting in. "But also, each of those halls are constantly monitored by camera, which are manned twenty-four hours a day. Should someone not on the approved list of people that should have those cards try to gain entrance, those halls would lock down and… well, certain, rather nasty, security measures would kick in."

Buffy cringed, images of lasers cutting people in half à la Resident Evil running through her head.

"So, did you destroy anything in Dallas? Stake anybody? Blow anything up?" Rasul asked, resuming his questioning now that the building security lesson was over. Luckily, the queen's compound was only a few blocks away so she didn't have to endure it too far. As soon as they pulled past the gate, he snapped into professional guard Rasul mode and stopped pestering her, which was a little creepy, but welcome.

When they arrived at the same room she'd visited before, he gave her a little smile and a nod, waiting in the hall as she went in. Sophie-Anne was once again behind the grand desk, looking just as perfect and professional as before. Looking at her in her severe gray suit with her serious expression, hair pulled back into a sleek bun, Buffy wondered what would happen if you took all that away. Put her in jeans and a t-shirt, messed up her hair and took away the heavy presence of a vampire that had been around for centuries on top of centuries.

_She'd look like a high school girl at her father's desk_, Buffy realized. Instead of finding it funny, she just found it sad.

"Tell me of Dallas," Sophie-Anne said, leaning back in her chair and focusing her attention strictly on Buffy.

So Buffy squared her shoulders and did. And she left nothing out. Okay, she left out that the blond vamp she'd run into was way hot and that she had a really steamy dream about him. And she left out the punning - that was a kinda 'you had to be there' thing. But other than that she gave the Queen the full story, deciding it was better to just get it all over with at once than to have her find out from someone else down the line.

"So, after I specifically told you to remain inconspicuous, you were seen by multiple Fellowship of the Sun members and the director himself, Steve Newlin. You were also seen by Sookie Stackhouse, whom you gave your actual name to, and two vampires. Three if you count the one that met the sun," she reiterated flatly. "And you set fire to the house next-door to Stan Davis's."

"Well, I didn't really start the-"

"You were also caught on tape by the security cameras at The Silent Shore," Sophie-Anne interrupted, withdrawing a folder from her desk drawer and pulling out a still frame taken from said camera of Buffy's rental car. Funny, she didn't remember it looking so banged up… "The footage didn't show a clear shot of you, but it was enough for them to track the rental car - a rental car that you destroyed, by the way, and I had to pay for - to Sunshine Smith. That alias is now useless."

"Oh, no more Sunshine, huh? What a shame," Buffy said, trying to keep a contrite look on her face.

Sophie-Anne stared at her blankly, not at all amused. Buffy gave a sheepish shrug. After a moment more of uncomfortable silence, the Queen sighed slightly and leaned back in her chair.

"But you did keep the telepath from dying at the hands of the Sun. And you kept the Renouncer from giving them the publicity they wanted. Plus you kept them from attacking Stan Davis's headquarters, though that probably would've made martyrs of them, giving him more power. He, I'm sure would've liked that, but I'm quite satisfied with the outcome."

Buffy gave out a gusty sigh of relief.

"Two nights from now I'll be attending a masquerade ball hosted by the King of Arkansas, Peter Threadgood," she went on. "You'll be attending as well."

"I will?" Buffy asked in confusion. "I thought I was supposed to be secret girl?"

"You are. There will be many people there, humans as well as vampires, and, being a masquerade, you'll be in costume and not easily identified."

"Okay, what exactly am I supposed to be doing there?" Buffy asked, reeling.

Part of her was excited. A ball! A _masquerade_ ball! She was already picturing big fancy dresses and the little masks you hold up on the stick. So cool… But the part of her that was changed into an 18th century girl one Halloween was less than enthused.

"Threadgood and I are in talks regarding a marriage union."

"Oh, um, congratulations?" Buffy asked, taken off guard and snapping her attention back to the queen. Married? Really? Vampires did that?

"It is a business venture, not a love match. It would greatly strengthen our two kingdoms should we join forces. Unfortunately, I'm not sure of his intentions. I'd like you to see if you have any luck finding them out."

"Well, his intentions are kinda obvious. Both of you are marrying for power. I mean, that's why the two of you are getting together, right? So, if you already know that, what else could I possibly find?"

"That he means to sabotage or kill me."

"Oh. I guess that'd be nice to know," Buffy said dumbly. "I don't see how I can find anything like that though. I doubt they'll be talking about stuff like that out in the open."

"Like I said before, vampires underestimate humans, especially women. They won't be as guarded around you."

Buffy went still and stiff as an ugly thought occurred to her. "If you're implying that I let these guys bite or screw me to get information for you, I'll tell you right now, _not_ happening."

"That _would_ be the easiest way, but I'm sure it's not the only one. I'll leave how you get the information up to you. Just make sure that you _do_ indeed get it."

There was more than a hint of a threat in Sophie-Anne's last words.

* * *

><p>Eric watched the goings on in his bar with a scowl. He imagined he must look quite frightening, as he'd been approached by far less vermin this night, but for once he didn't care about appearances.<p>

He wanted information and he wanting it _now_.

He'd gone out to look for the mystery woman after he could safely do so without drawing attention to himself. He'd found nothing. He knew Davis's people were looking into it as well, but they were being remarkably close-lipped about it - having had a traitor in their midst had made them much more cautious.

Pam's approach drew him out of his thoughts. The horrid black dress she wore when she was on the bar floor floated around her as she made her way towards him, drawing appreciative glances from the majority of the patrons.

"Have you found anything yet?" He asked immediately as she sat down.

"Stan Davis's people were able to get the surveillance footage from when she dropped off Sookie. They've tracked the car to a rental agency, who have the girl listed as 'Sunshine Smith' from Miami."

Despite his foul mood, Eric couldn't help but to smirk at the moniker. "Sunshine" indeed.

"Have you spoken to Rammerstein?"

"Yes, he may be the best but he's still an idiot," Pam said, curling her lip. "He said he couldn't work on the search for us now because he was already working on one for the Queen herself. Also being under Sophie-Anne's rule, he felt perfectly comfortable with sharing his current work with me. We must remember not to give him important information if that is the way he behaves with it." When Eric waved her on impatiently, she continued. "She has him searching for anything on a petite, blond named 'Buffy' with exceptional fighting skills."

"Buffy and Sunshine," Eric said, leaning back in his chair with a humorless smirk. "Aliases then."

"Seems that way."

"So we're no closer than we were before…"

"Why were you there? In Dallas?"

Eric blinked and raised an eyebrow. "To make sure things went smoothly and that Davis didn't kill Sookie and Bill should things have gone badly. You know this."

"But you didn't ask permission from the Queen. No one knew you were going."

"That's correct," Eric answered slowly, eyes narrowing as he wondered where she was going with this line of thought.

"Is it too much to assume the girl might have been there for the same purpose? Sent to do what you were already secretly doing?

"You think she works for Sophie-Anne?" Eric asked, surprised.

"We've both had our suspicions on Bill's association with Sookie - that the Queen might have ordered him to her. If she would go to that length to secure her talent, then wouldn't she want to make sure it's kept safe?"

"I suppose she would at that…" Eric said, thoughts whirling. "Your devious mind never ceases to amaze me."

"I learned from the best," she said, flashing him a dangerous grin. "And if she is working for the Queen-"

"-then she'll probably be in Arkansas," Eric finished. "Looks like I'll be attending Threadgood's masquerade this year."

"It's rumored that the queen and Threadgood are negotiating a marriage contract," Pam said, sending a warning snarl at an approaching fangbanger and sending him scurrying away.

"So I've heard," Eric said, tapping a finger on the table and feeling better now that he had a course of action. "It would be powerful arrangement, but Threadgood isn't to be given trust lightly."

"All the more reason for your little blond to be there."

"'My little blond', I like that…"

"It's always the blonds with you," she said, shaking her head and getting to her feet.

"It's because they taste the best," he grinned.

"They also always cause you the most tribulations," she said. "Didn't you almost get staked in Rome because of a blond? And blown up in Madagascar? And didn't you go over that cliff in Spain because-"

The cordless Fangtasia business phone Pam carried with her began to ring, cutting off her list of his missteps, but also preventing his rebuttal. There were perfectly good reasons for all of those events...

She answered it, looking far to smug for his liking.

"He is," Pam replied to the person on the other ends inquiry, then handed the phone to him without another word.

"I am here," he answered.

"And I am here," Sookie said on the other end, making him grin. Despite his newest fascination, Sookie was still entertaining. And she proved it once more as she went on, explaining how she needed an escort to an _orgy _of all things. An orgy where vampires weren't invited and he wouldn't actually get to have any sex. Oh, and he should pretend to be gay while attending as well.

Orgy with Sookie or hunting and espionage at a masquerade…

Eric weighed his options carefully, then his eyes landed on Pam, watching as her lip pulled back in disgust while a large sweaty fangbanger kissed her shoes.

Hmm, how about a little payback while he went to the masquerade.

"My apologies, Sookie, as much fun as going to an orgy with you sounds, I'll have to decline. I'm going out of town and have some last minute arrangements to take care of. But Pam will be there," Eric said with a smirk. "I'm sure there's nothing she'd rather do than go to a human orgy with you."


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine**

Buffy stood in front of the mirror in her hotel room, unable to stop the huge smile from spreading across her face. She looked _amazing_. She gave a little twirl, enjoying the way the fabric rustled and floated.

When Sophie-Anne had said she'd be picking out Buffy's masquerade dress for her, she'd been disappointed - expecting something plain, unnoticeable. What she'd found earlier today waiting on her in her hotel room in Little Rock was far from the simple dress she'd envisioned. No way would she go unseen or overlooked wearing this.

The floor length gown was white, overlaid with black organza in places, giving it a silvery glimmer. The bodice was form fitting and strapless with rhinestones snaking intricate patterns across it (at least she _hoped_ they were rhinestones… she wasn't sure if she could function if she found out they were real diamonds). The bottom half of the dress was a mass of silvery shimmer caused by the black and white combination, it was puffy and floor length and made Buffy feel like a princess in a fairytale.

She'd spent hours on her hair, trying it one way, then another, then washing it and blow drying it and starting over. Finally she'd settled on large, wild curls that were partially pinned up. She thought since only parts of it were pinned, that it actually had a chance lasting the night and even ipossibly/i withstanding a brawl.

Not that she planned on brawling, but you never knew…

She'd been just as meticulous with her makeup, continuously grabbing her mask and holding it up to see that it looked okay. And the mask… It was the perfect compliment to the dress. Sparkling and concealing, it seemed to add to the look instead of detract from it. It wasn't on a stick, much to her disappointment, but had decorative pins that slid into her hair, holding it in place but also giving her hair the sparkling appearance of her dress. It was actually much better this way because she wouldn't have to worry about making sure her face was covered all night or losing it in a fight.

Again, not that she was planning on fighting…

Overall, the effect was stunning. The dress was perfectly set off by the mask and the dark mask in turn made her blond hair seem lighter, shinier. It also made her green eyes stand out vividly (with a little help from the smoky eye makeup).

Giving herself one last giddy look in the mirror, she grabbed her invitation and headed for the door. All of her things were already packed and waiting for a bellboy to come get them and ship them off somewhere else, where they'd make a complicated circle of stops before arriving back in New Orleans. She wouldn't be coming back here tonight.

Sophie-Anne had arranged her arrival here very carefully. Making sure that when Buffy did something to get noticed (not _if_… _when_… as she inevitably would), she wouldn't be tracked back to the Queen of Louisiana. She'd had Buffy drive out of New Orleans to Baton Rouge, fly out of there under an assumed name, catch another flight in Chicago under a new name, then out to California, where she started a false trail for anyone to follow with yet another name. Buffy's dress had come from London and was then shipped to a hotel in New York before arriving in Arkansas. Even the fake invitation she was holding was carefully arranged not to track back to Sophie-Anne, instead it would read as though it came from Russell Edgington, the King of Mississippi.

A sleek black town car was waiting for her downstairs and she gave a little laugh at the look of awe on the driver's face. Not much over eighteen (and human for a change), he blushed brightly and babbled an apology as he opened the car door for her. She looked back at the luxury hotel as they left, then down at her dress, and then around the car.

This was the life.

Immediately she chided herself. It wasn't _her_ life. It wasn't even her _world_. At home were Dawn and Xander and Willow and Giles. _That you hadn't seen in months before you came here…_ And all the new Slayers. _That took your place and made you obsolete_… And apocalypses. _That you stopped how many times yet never got even a thank you for let alone a paycheck. When was the last time anyone asked you to help stop an apocalypse anyway?_ Having alleviated herself of the guilt of still not having looked for a way home… _I haven't had time!_ …she pushed the matter out of her head and watched the scenery slide by from the darkly tinted window.

The ball was being held at Threadgill's home, which apparently was the only place in Arkansas that he deemed luxurious enough to hold the engagement at. She'd been briefed on the sprawling estate north of Little Rock and even gotten the blueprints for it (making her feel really cool and spy-like as she studied them… until she realized she had no idea what she was looking at and had to call Rasul over to help her). The drive took roughly forty minutes even in the nights light traffic, leaving her time to worry about what could go wrong while she shimmied around the backseat, trying to keep her dress from wrinkling.

Eventually the car slowed and made a right-hand turn into a winding drive. Hearing a low whistle come from the driver, Buffy scooted forward to see better. When she let out a whistle of her own, the driver jumped and looked over guiltily.

"Sorry, ma'am. Never seen anything like that is all."

"Me neither," Buffy said, eyes glued to the spectacle in front of them.

The drive was long and curved with cars backed all the way down it, all waiting their turn to drop off their passengers in front of a house that looked more like a castle than it did a home. Four stories and two turrets of what looked like grey stone (it was hard to tell being night time), it exuded luxury and class. Buffy smirked, wondering if Mr. Threadgill had seen Sophie-Anne's psychedelic dream house, and if so, what he thought of it.

All of the numerous windows were lit with soft yellow light that spilled out onto the lawn, throwing dragon shaped topiaries into a shadowy relief that made them look far more sinister than shrubs had any right to look. They also lit the line of cars, which were just as fascinating as the house. There were limo's and other town cars like the one she was in, but there were also about half a dozen low sleek sports cars that probably cost more than Buffy could make in a lifetime. There were even two horse-drawn carriages.

"Wonder where they came from," Buffy muttered.

"Was wondering that myself," the driver answered. Then tossed her another sheepish look. "Sorry again, ma'am."

"Stop apologizing!" She laughed. "And stop calling me 'ma'am', I'm not _that_ much older than you."

"Sor- uh, I mean, yes, ma- uh miss," he stuttered, turning bright red.

"How about you just call me… Summer," she said, almost forgetting the name she was going by tonight. She fought not to make a face as she said it. Although he denied it, she was sure Rasul had a hand in picking out these names they kept giving her…

"Okay… Summer," he said, smiling shyly. "I'm Dennis."

"See, that's better," she said, giving him a bright smile. He was just so cute and awkward, she wanted to squeeze him. "Will you be coming back for me later, Dennis?"

She wanted to make sure of her out. If she wasn't going to be able to leave until he got back, she needed to know when that was going to be.

Not that she was planning on needing a quick exit, just, you know, in case…

"I'll be waiting, ma- Summer," he said, inching the car forward in line. "So whenever you're ready, I'll be here."

"You'll be here, waiting outside, the whole time I'm in there?" She asked, frowning. How boring would that be?

"It's fine," he said, giving her a reassuring smile. "I get paid pretty good, plus I have a bio exam to study for, so this'll give me time to get that done."

"Oh, well… maybe I'll try and sneak you out some food," she said, brightening. "Something to snack on to keep the old brain juices flowing."

"Uh, not sure that they'll be serving food…" he said, looking a little pale as he stared out the windshield.

"Oh, right," Buffy said, following his gaze. But as her eyes landed on the people getting out of the cars, now that they were close enough to see them, any thoughts of Dennis, his studying, or what might be on the menu flew right out of her head.

"Wow," she breathed, leaning so far forward she was practically in the front seat.

The vampire getting out of limousine in front of them was in a red floor length ball gown that made Buffy's look plain in comparison. The skirt was three, maybe four times fuller, gathered and pinned in places by sparkling clusters of what could be rhinestones, but Buffy would bet they were the real thing. Her dark hair spilled down her back and her face was covered with a red feathered mask (on a stick… so not fair that she got one…). Her companion was in a white tuxedo with a white shirt, red vest and red tie. He would've looked like he'd stepped straight out of a GQ photo-shoot if it weren't for the horned red mask he was wearing.

Buffy suddenly felt self-conscious. She'd thought she looked pretty good, but if that was the standard…

"You look great," Dennis said, his eyes on her his voice surprisingly firm. "Amazing. You have something they don't - life."

Buffy blinked at him, then let out a gusty breath. "Thanks, Dennis."

He nodded, his face turning pink again as he faced forward and eased the car up in front of the entrance. Leaning forward, she gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, beaming at his shocked expression as a vampire in tails opened her door for her.

The air was warm and still as she stepped from the car. She could hear the sound of string music floating from inside. Following the couple up the stairs, her confidence shored up by the fact that she could at least still render a human guy speechless, she made her way inside with her head held high. The doorman- door_vampire_- studied her invitation for a moment before nodding her inside and turning his attention to the next person in line.

The inside of Peter Threadgill's abode made the outside seem like a shack. Curving staircases and arched doorways covered in gold were everywhere you turned in the foyer. The chandelier that glittered overhead was the size of a small car. Buffy took all this in as she followed the queue of humans and vampires straight back to where she was assuming the ball was being held, trying not to stop and stare like some kind of bumpkin. But that's exactly what she did when she stepped into the ballroom.

It was massive and absolutely spectacular. Columns and marble and gold as far as the eye could see. An orchestra played classical music on a dais at the far end of the room and tuxedoed staff wandered through the crowd with trays of blood and champagne. The crowd though, _they_ were what made the room truly incredible. The red dress she'd seen before was just one of many truly extravagant gowns in every shape and color imaginable. Ruffles and bows and huge skirts rustled left and right, jewels sparked in the soft lighting and every type of mask imaginable filled the room. The men were a little less showy, mostly in tuxedoes and suits, all perfectly tailored, but some wore ensembles more from the renaissance and medieval eras.

When she'd first gotten ready, Buffy'd thought she'd stand out. Then, when she'd seen the woman in red, she'd thought she'd be underdressed. Now she realized Sophie-Anne had chosen perfectly. Her dress was the perfect middle ground. Not as extravagant as some, but not as plain as others. The color choice elegant, but not bold or eye-catching. Her mask detailed, but not extraordinary. The perfect choices to make her look beautiful when noticed, but quickly forgotten.

Feeling more at ease, she started making her way slowly around the room, hoping her job would be as simple as just eavesdropping on conversations. She really knew better, but she could still hope. She'd only been there about ten minutes when she spotted Sophie-Anne. She truly looked the part of a queen tonight. Resplendent in a dazzling dark blue and gold dress that looked like it might've been worn by Queen Anne herself, her reddish brown hair was pulled up in a series of complicated curling knots and a gold mask with huge blue plumage sat upon her face. It should've looked ridiculous, but somehow she managed to pull it off.

She was talking with a man that was primped within an inch of his life. His suit was black and cut in a style that reminded Buffy of old England, a gold colored cravat at his neck. His hair looked like every strand had been meticulously placed. She wondered if this was Peter Threadgill, the King of Arkansas. Behind him stood a short, thin Asian woman with the most god-awful haircut Buffy had ever seen. And that included the time in second grade that Dawn had cut off her hair with a pair of safety scissors. She was dressed in a dark red calf-length dress with strategically placed tears and shredded fabric artfully hanging from it, her mask was leather and just as red as her dress. The overall look was more mental patient than masquerade.

Andre stood at the queen's back in a normal black and white tux and a plain black mask. Glancing around, she spotted the giant Bert twins at attention by the wall, watching the proceedings with wary eyes through the eye slits of the metal helmets they were wearing. Doing another sweep of the room, she spotted Rasul in a black and red suit, heading toward one of the waiters. With a smirk, she headed toward the same one.

Reaching their destination at roughly the same moment, she made a point to brush her hand against his as she reached for a glass of champagne and he reached for one of blood.

"Excuse me," she apologized, giving him a meaningless smile and a nod.

Glancing at him out of the corner of her eye, she had the satisfaction of seeing his mouth slacken a little as his gaze swept over her. Suddenly, his eyes locked onto her neck and his expression went from one of shock to something colder and harder. His lips tightened into pale lines and he nodded his head stiffly, "Pardon me, madam." And then he was gone.

What the hell? That was weird… Had she made him hungry? Shrugging off his bizarre behavior, she moved further into the room, bent on getting down to business. For the next half hour she circulated around the huge room, trying to catch any incriminating pieces of conversation.

She got zip.

All the conversations were polite and diplomatic. No gossip, much to her disappointment. She was sipping on her glass of champagne and watching the crowd, trying to decide on her next course of action when she felt a heavy presence come up behind her.

"A truly rare gem hidden among the everyday jewels."

It took Buffy a moment to realize that the deep, smooth voice was referring to her. Blinking in confusion, she turned to her left and felt her heart skip a beat. With a head full of dark curly hair and a beautiful smile filled with good humor, Buffy was sure this was a face that had charmed hundreds of women out of both their panties and their blood.

If Buffy hadn't seen evil in so many different forms she probably would've fallen for it, too. As it was, she could see past the false warmth in his pale, almond colored eyes, to the cold calculation and hunger underneath.

"Victor Madden," he said, nodding slightly.

"Summer," she nodded back.

"Fitting," he said. "A ray of golden warmth in this sea of winter."

Oh, he was good. It didn't help matters that he was dressed like a model. It hit her then that the white suit with red vest and tie were familiar - this was the man that had gotten out of the limo in front of her with the dark haired beauty in the red dress, just without the horned mask he'd been wearing earlier.

"Quite the charmer," she said, shooting him a grin. She was sure he wouldn't buy the naïve act, so she decided to go with something a little more playful.

"Only when I have something to gain from it," he said, obviously feeling her out.

"Oh, and what is it you think you have to gain here?"

"A new acquaintance. Some interesting conversation. To bask in your beauty," he said with a shrug. "Are you here alone?"

"Mr. Edgington thought I might like to come - said girls like this kind of thing," she said, giving the lines she'd rehearsed. "And you? I thought I saw you with someone earlier… I remember thinking her dress was really incredible."

"Delilah?" Then he laughed - it was a good laugh, filled with sincere amusement, and even knowing this was a very dangerous man, she couldn't help but to smile at the sound. "I'll be sure to tell her you said so. She thought she looked like a giant apple. We work together in Nevada, we came here at the behest of our boss."

"Must be nice, having a job that takes you places like this," she said, the wistfulness in her voice real as she thought of going home to prowling cemeteries again.

"It has its perks," he answered vaguely. "And how about you? By 'Mr. Edgington' I assume you mean Russell Edgington. Forgive me, but you don't really seem his type…"

Buffy smiled, well aware that the King of Mississippi was openly gay and had his own harem of beautiful men (which made her wonder when she might get to go spy on _him_). "Yeah, he's not so interested in certain... aspects of me. But he took a liking to me. He's been really nice, actually."

Buffy watched as the calculating shine in Victor's eyes became more pronounced and wondered what she was missing. Sophie-Anne had been very specific about what her wording should be when questioned about her relationship with Russell Edgington. Buffy thought it was just some vampire thing, to make it more believable, but now she was wondering if there wasn't more to it than that.

"I'm surprised you'd want anything to do with our kind after what happened to you," Victor said, his voice drawing her out of her questioning thoughts.

Buffy's heart stuttered to a halt and when it resumed she thought it might just burst right out of her chest. She noticed a couple vampires turning their way, no doubt their attention drawn by the sound of her heart pounding.

"What do you mean?" She asked, fighting to calm herself.

He smiled, soft and sympathetic. "No need to play that game, dear. I can see the evidence there on your neck. The vampire that did that to you was clearly an animal, ravishing such perfection without care - marring your beautiful skin."

For a second she felt relieved - he was just talking about the bite scar on her neck. He didn't know who she was, where she was from, the things she'd done. But just as quickly as that relief came, it was gone again as she remembered Rasul's cold look as he'd stared at her neck.

_Oh crap…_

Her gaze whipped out to the crowd, mind going a mile a minute. Would he tell Sophie-Anne? What would that mean? What should she say? She'd blatantly told them she'd never seen a vampire before…

"It's not always like that," Victor's said, his voice soft and intimate and right next to her ear. While she'd been lost in thought, worrying about what she was going to do about Rasul and the Queen, he'd placed himself behind her. A dark curl brushed her temple as he leaned into her, the line of his body pressing against her back and one hand coming to rest on her hip. "It can be wonderful, rapturous and exotic. With the right person…"

The air from his words moved from her ear down her neck, his lips brushing against the soft skin there. Buffy's breath caught in her throat and she swallowed hard. She couldn't deny that she was tempted. She hadn't been with anyone since Spike and that had been a _long_ time ago. And Victor was extremely good looking…

He was also very dangerous. Besides, there was no way she was letting anyone bite her at all, let alone some stranger in the middle of a crowded party where everyone could see. Plus the thought of getting blood on her beautiful dress made her vaguely angry.

Logic restored, she did the only thing she could think of. She slapped her hand right into the middle of his face and shoved, while saying loudly, "Would you look at her dress? I _have to find out where she got it!" Then rushed off into the crowd._

_Okay, not so smooth, but definitely effective. _

_She let out a tense breath as she slipped between people, putting distance between her and Victor Madden. She had a feeling that wouldn't be the last she would see of him. And she was sure he'd be less than happy when they met again._


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter Ten**

Threadgill's home was a practice in self-indulgence and vanity - an attempt to impress those that would otherwise be unimpressed by him. Eric was indifferent to both. While he was all for treating yourself to the finer things in life, there was a point where it just became absurd. This home, in the middle of _Arkansas_ was one such example.

This party was another. There was no enjoyment here. Only those wishing to gain or keep their political footholds. An evening of subtly suggested thoughts and ideas, reading between the lines, carefully worded accolades - it made Eric weary just being in the room. That was why he usually avoided such functions. Not that he didn't enjoy maneuvering and manipulating himself into higher and higher positions of power, but to make such bold movements was also to be noticed - he would rather come up quietly from behind while keeping all his bridges in tact instead of putting his plans on display for all to see.

As it was, he was simply bored. He'd hadn't even really bothered to dress up because he'd known how monotonous the event would be. If it had been a party in the true sense of the word, he would've enjoyed dressing extravagantly, drawing attention to himself. But since it wasn't, and the added fact that given what he was doing there it was better that he be as inconspicuous as possible, he'd opted for an all black ensemble - black pants, black jacket, black shirt, black tie, black mask. A boring costume for a boring party.

The last _true_ masquerade he'd been to was in in 1845, and he'd dressed as a rather demented jester. Now _that_ had been fun. This was _nothing_ like that. He was starting to wish he'd gone to the orgy instead, especially since he hadn't seen his blond target even once. He was beginning to wonder if she was there at all. Ah, but had he not sent Pam with Sookie in his stead, he would've missed out on the phone call he'd gotten an hour before dawn this morning. Pam, almost unintelligible with rage and disgust, had rehashed the evening for him much to his delight. Murder, debauchery, a drunken gunman and a maenad all in one evening? Now that was a party.

A familiar scent suddenly cut its way through his amusement, stopping him in his tracks.

She was here…

Following that engaging smell, one that was both sweet and deadly, like oleander, he moved toward the west end of the room, trying not to let his eagerness show in his steps. As he got closer, he wondered how it was that all the vampires weren't flocking toward her. Was it because he'd experienced the scent up close that it was so alluring to him? With that thought came memories of her soft warm body, stretched out over his. A grin of anticipation spread over his face.

There! She stood out like a beacon to him - a flare in the dark room. As he moved closer, he wondered what it was about her that made her seem so… bright. Her hair was a stunning gold in the rooms lighting, but his own was more vivid. Her dress was perfectly fitted and sparkled delicately, but it wasn't grand or vibrantly colored. It was _her. She_ was what was bright and interesting in this dull room. It was amazing none others had noticed. But as he slid by the King of Indiana he saw that he _wasn't_ the only one that had noticed.

Victor Madden was approaching her, slipping into his charming persona like a wolf putting on its sheep costume.

Eric slowed and angled to the left, approaching from the side instead of the front. If Victor thought Eric was interested in the girl it would make things very difficult. They'd never gotten along and if Victor thought he could get one over on Eric by taking something he wanted, he would become relentless in his pursuit of her. He knew this because he would do the exact same thing if their positions were reversed. The only difference being that Eric would leave her in one piece while Victor was known for his brutality.

Stopping far enough away not to be noticed eavesdropping, but close enough to observe and hear them, he grabbed a glass of blood from a passing waiter and leaned against the column beside him. He gave a light huff of laughter at Victor's lines and smirked at her newest name. Sunshine, Buffy, Summer - definitely a pattern there.

So, she was claiming to be a guest of Russell Edgington's… Sophie-Anne was truly a master manipulator. Not only did this draw the focus of who this girl might work for to someone else besides the queen herself, but it also made people wonder what was "different" about her - as Edgington wouldn't have a woman unless she was part of his unique "collection". And when they realized there was indeed something off about her, it would just cement the thought that she was the King of Mississippi's.

And what was she doing here anyway? What were Sophie-Anne's orders? Actually, he still wasn't one hundred percent sure she _was_ working for Sophie-Anne. It seemed to fit, and her presence both here and in Dallas lent credibility to the theory, but one question lingered in his mind that made him wonder: If she was truly working for the Queen, then why was Sophie-Anne having one of her alias' investigated? Was it simply an act of subterfuge? To make anyone who got suspicious think that she too had just run across her and wanted to know who she was, the same Stan Davis? Or did she actually not know anything about the girl working for her?

Putting off those thoughts, he listened more intently as the conversation turned toward "Summer's" previous vampire encounters. He heard her heartbeat pick up and saw the blood drain from her face. But for some reason her eyes started sweeping the crowd instead of focusing on Victor, who was moving up behind her. She'd been attacked before? Viciously, if Victor's statement was anything to go by. Yet another question to be added to the pile. A question that was quickly forgotten as he saw Victor press himself up behind her.

Eric's fangs ran out, that possessive feeling he'd felt when Joseph Velasquez had appeared in Dallas came back ten fold. The glass in his hand cracked as he saw Victor going in towards her neck. Just as he was about to step in and snatch him away from her, her hand not holding her champagne glass came up across her chest and over her shoulder, palm slapping Victor flat in the middle of his face and pushing him back while she exclaimed something about a dress. Surprisingly, the force was enough to actually send him stumbling back a few steps while she slipped off through the crowd like smoke.

Eric was sure his face looked just as shocked as Victor's. But while Eric's shock turned to laughter, Victor's turned to fury. His hands clenched at his sides and he moved to go after her. Eric, still laughing, stepped in his path.

"I see your way with women hasn't changed any, Victor."

"Northman," he hissed. Then, drawing in a calming breath and straightening, he found a more diplomatic air. "I wasn't aware you would be attending."

"Last minute decision."

"It's been a few decades," he went on, his mask of geniality slipping into place once again. "How go things in Louisiana?"

"Things are well," Eric answered, playing the game. "And in Nevada? Castro is doing quite the business I hear."

"Oh yes, if it weren't for that nasty bit of legislation about vampires being unable to own casinos, it would be better," Victor said. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I must find Delilah. Though that shouldn't be too hard considering what she's wearing…"

So, he'd grown as bored with the small talk as Eric had. Good. Eric wasn't fooled though, he knew perfectly well who Victor would be looking for.

"By all means," Eric said, stepping to the side and waving a hand by him. Victor nodded and disappeared into the crowd seconds later.

Setting his cracked glass on the tray of a passing waiter, he slipped into the crowd as well, focusing all his attention on catching Summer/Buffy/Sunshine's scent. It didn't take him long. He spotted her walking leisurely around the perimeter, her eyes on Peter Threadgill and a look of speculation on her masked face. Knowing Victor wouldn't be far behind, he stepped up next to her quickly and grabbed a hand, bowing over it.

"A dance, if you will?"

"Uh, well-"

But he'd already turned, still holding her deliciously warm hand and tugging her behind him. He heard a sputtered protest but ignored it, stopping in the middle of the crowd of other dancers and pulling her to him sharply. His one hand remained in her own while his other landed on her waist. Her free hand came up to rest delicately on his shoulder and he pulled her in closer. At the feel of her small, warm body against his, something in him loosened and tightened at the same time and he sucked in a lungful of that heady smell.

"Hey… I know you… Gnomeo!"

"Gnomeo…" He closed his eyes briefly - was _that_ the name she'd given him? "And I suppose that makes you Juliet?"

She blushed slightly. "Sorry, I didn't know your name, so when I was thinking about you I just called you Gnomeo in my head. Not that I thought about you a lot! Not much at all really. Just, you know, once or twice. Probably closer to once."

Her words tumbled over one another in her haste to get them out, making him smirk as he fell into step with the music. A flash of white caught his eye and he saw Victor watching from the edge of the crowd. He shot him a grin full of fang, giving the impression he'd only taken interest in the girl because she'd turned Victor down.

"So, uh, I know I kinda left you holding the bag last time, but you, uh, haven't told anybody that I'm here, have you?"

He watched her eyes sweep from the left of him to the right, as if she expected to get snatched up by security while he held her captive on the dance floor.

"No, you happen to be the only thing of interest here tonight. Why would I risk losing that?"

"What is it with you vampires thinking I'm some kind of entertainment just for you?" She asked with an irritated frown. "It's all, 'dance monkey-Buffy, dance'."

"Buffy? Not Summer? Or Sunshine?"

"Well… all of the above actually," she said with a grimace. He couldn't help but smile, she was so adorably _not_ cut out for this. If Sophie-Anne thought she had some super-spy working for her, she was quite mistaken.

"And which do you prefer to go by?" He asked, leaning in closer and whispering the question only inches from her lips. Not an easy task since she only came up to his chest.

Her green eyes locked on his, wide and unsure for a second before she relaxed a little and smiled. "Buffy."

He was a little taken aback by her acquiescence. Maybe it was just the fake name she preferred?

"You punned with me. We've bonded," she said with a little laugh, answering his unvoiced question.

"Buffy it is then. I am Eric," he said, feeling an intense rush of accomplishment. Which was absolutely ridiculous since all he'd done was learn her name, and it probably wasn't even her real one. Realizing they were gliding around the dance floor easily, he looked at her in surprise. "You dance incredibly well for a human of this era."

"Eighteenth century dance steps are a little unwanted skill I picked up," she said with a little secretive smile.

Suddenly she went stiff in his arms, even though her feet were still moving. She was watching something behind him and to the left. He was about to turn and see what it was when she stopped and pulled away.

"Well, this was fun, Eric, but I've gotta run. Places to go, people to see and all that. See ya!"

Then she was lost in the crowd once again. He really should put a bell on her…

Turning to see what had caught her attention, Eric watched as Threadgill went toward a side exit with two others - Jade Flower, who was his head of security and a psychopath, and Jennifer Cater, his first lieutenant and a bitch of epic proportions.

_This isn't going to end well_, he thought, now knowing where Buffy was headed. He gave them a few minutes and then followed after.

* * *

><p>Buffy snuck silently down a deserted hall three floors up, knowing that Threadgill and Badhair had come this way with a brunette who wasn't in a costume. She guessed the only way she was going to find out what she needed was get it straight from the source, so she was following them - straining her Slayer hearing to catch their words as they turned down another hall, already two turns ahead of Buffy.<p>

"The contract was just finished," one of the women was saying. "Ink's not even dry yet. But I figured you'd want to see it right away."

"You've looked over it? There are no loopholes for her to get through? Everything appears to be genuine and straightforward?" Threadgill asked.

"There's a human on this floor," a flat, slightly accented voice said - most likely Bad-Hair-Chick.

Buffy tensed, ready to make a run for it. But, Threadgill dismissed her presence almost immediately.

"Much to far away to be any concern to us. Probably got lost looking for a bathroom, pathetic, base creatures that they are."

Never had Buffy been so glad to be a "pathetic, base creature".

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" The other woman asked. "Leclerq is known for being crafty…"

"She's not half as smart as she thinks she is," he said darkly. "I'll be well within my rights when I take Louisiana for my own."

The snick of a door shutting cut off the conversation. Well, she didn't know _what_ he was planning, but he was definitely up to something. Something that he thought he could get away with because of the marriage contracts. For a moment, she thought of trying to get closer but dismissed it after a second. She'd pressed her luck enough by even following them up here. What she'd found out would have to be enough.

Turning back down the hall she wondered what Sophie-Anne would do now. There wasn't any proof, just some marriage contracts that were apparently flawless and Buffy's word. Crap… she wouldn't want proof, would she? Was she supposed to be wearing a wire or something? This spying stuff was hard, why couldn't she just get pointed at some big nasty beasty, slay it, and still make the big bucks?

Sighing, she took a left at the end of the hall to get to the stairs. Except the stairs weren't there. Okay, who moved the stairs? She looked around with her eyebrows furrowed, wondering where she made the wrong turn. She should've been paying more attention… Turning around and retracing her steps, she came across a huge marble statue of a man being eaten alive by a beautiful naked woman, something she was sure she would've noticed had she been this way before…

Yep, she was lost.

For the next ten minutes she searched for the stairs, but somehow seemed to keep winding further and further into the mansion. The sound of the string music was barely audible now. What the hell? Was the house evil? Was it trying to eat her? Her sense of direction couldn't be that horrible, could it? Stopping in the middle of yet another hall, she looked back and forth in irritation. Both ends stopped in a T with options of continuing either right or left. A huge window sat at each junction, overlooking the night darkened grounds and sending her distant reflection back at her.

Suddenly, she felt a vampire approaching. Her vampy radar had been pretty fuzzy all night long because of the amount of them in this one place, but this one was close. Really close. Turning to the left, she went to intercept the vampire approaching her, her reflection growing in the window with each step as she neared the end of the hall. At this point she'd rather just find a way out of here than worry about getting in trouble for wandering the King's house.

Unfortunately for her, help was not what the vampire approaching had in mind. When she rounded the corner, she came face to face with none other than Victor Madden.

"Summer! Fancy meeting you here. A bit lost, are you?"

His voice was still as smooth and sincere as it had been in the ballroom, but something in the way he was standing - head cocked, eyes almost glowing - screamed predator. Buffy smiled back at him and kept her body relaxed, but watched him warily.

"Just a bit," she said, adopting a clueless little smile. "This place just keeps spinning me in circles, maybe you could-"

And that was as far as she got before he was on her. He moved so _fast_. Even after facing off against Andre, Victor's speed still took her off guard. She found herself pressed against the wall right next to the corner. The sconce nearby shaking a bit with the impact and making the orange tinted light shiver. She tensed, ready to retaliate.

Then he kissed her.

He tasted like blood and darkness, his cold mouth pressing on hers with brutal force, fangs out and on the brink of breaking the delicate skin of her lips. It lasted for all of three seconds before she snapped. She snaked a hand between them, gripping his red tie and shoving him back just far enough to punch him. It wasn't well aimed and didn't have as much force behind it as she would've liked, but he still flew back. His back hit the wall next to the window hard enough to make it shudder, cracking the drywall and sending a painting further down crashing to the floor.

"You should _really_ learn some manners," she hissed at him. She'd tried being Blend-in-Buffy for long enough, avoiding fights and trying to be quiet. But she'd be damned if some sleazy bastard (even a _hot_ sleazy bastard) would be putting his lips on her without her permission. That equaled immediate ass-kickage.

"As should you," he said, stepping away from the wall and glancing back at the damage with narrowed eyes. "Wandering the host's home in such a manner. One might think you weren't here for the party, but for some other, less scrupulous, reason."

"I was looking for the bathroom," she said, rolling her eyes.

"As if I'd believe such a-"

"I really don't give a crap _what_ you believe. Just know that if you _ever_ touch me like that again, I'll rip off something you'll _really_ miss."

When his handsome face twisted in a nasty snarl, the Slayer in her almost crowed in victory from the place it'd been locked since Buffy'd arrived in this dimension. She was more than ready for him when he came at her again. Now that she'd adjusted to his speed, she was more than a match for him - dodging his first attempt to grab her and landing a knee to his stomach as he tried to recover from the surprise of her own swiftness.

He brushed off the hit like it was nothing though, and was ready when she threw a punch, snatching her wrist midair and landing a backhand of his own to her cheek. She stumbled under the assault, her heels momentarily catching in the fabric of her previously loved, but now cursed, dress. She hit the ground hard, flat on her back. Blinking at the ceiling and trying to regain her breath, she saw him leaning over her, reaching for her throat. She quickly pulled her knees to her chest and then shot them straight out, hitting him in the chest and sending him backwards.

Right through the huge arched window at his back.

The sound of the of shattering glass and snapping wood was extremely loud. Cringing, she pulled herself quickly to her feet and whirled around, intending to put as much distance between her and the mess as possible, only to run smack right into another body. Buffy, tangled with the other person - _vampire_, her senses whispered - met with the floor once again.

"We should stop meeting like this," a familiar voice said, his words brushing the top of her head.

Jerking her eyes up, she met the glacial blue of none other than Gnomeo- uh, Eric, now without the mask he'd been wearing on the dance floor.

"Did you just kick Victor out the window?" He asked, looking up over her at the window, seeming both amused and curious.

"Uh, yeah," she said, sliding off of him and getting to her feet. "He started it though."

"Always a valid reason," he nodded. "Not that you need one where Victor is concerned."

His eyes raked over her and she got the distinct impression he was looking for injuries. She was proved right when a little line appeared between his eyes when his gaze landed on her cheek, which she was sure was already bruising. Shaking off the blush and the butterflies that threatened, she eyed him suspiciously.

"Why aren't you raising the alarm? I'm in a place I shouldn't be, kicking guys out of windows and you seem almost happy about it? What's the what with that?"

"It isn't my home, I don't care what you do here," he said with a blasé shrug. "As for Victor, I'd be happy to watch you kick him out of windows all day. In fact, I might actually pay to see it…"

She couldn't help but smile a little at his view on the situation. And she swore every time she saw him he got hotter and bigger, like a giant Hottie McHottington… Seeing a sexy smirk spreading over his handsome face, she realized she'd been staring. She gave a cough and ripped her eyes off of him, backing away down the hall.

"So, it was nice seeing you again and all. But I really need to be getting out of here. You know, beauty sleep for the still living and all that. The dance was fun, and uh, thanks for not tattling, so, see ya!"

She spun, making a bid for freedom, but he was suddenly in front of her, his blue eyes laughing as he blocked her way. She was momentarily breathless at how fast and silent he was.

"You keep running away… Buffy," he purred her name out, his slight accent curling around his words delightfully. "You always seem to cause some kind of chaos and then leave me with the mess. What am I to say if someone comes along and sees me leaving this area? Or smells my scent when they come to investigate?"

"Oh, right," she said, her shoulders slumping in guilt. She really didn't want to get him in trouble… A light bulb suddenly flashed to life in her head. "I've got it! Okay, so, in advance, I want to apologize, but really this is for the best."

He barely had time to blink before she hit him, full force, full swing, all out Slayer strength, right in the face, then followed it up with another from her left. He crashed to the ground, his huge body making the floor shake slightly.

"Really, I'm sorry," she said again, biting her lip and trying to arrange his now unconscious form in a more comfortable position. He smelled really good… manly and clean… She patted his chest, giving him one more apologetic glance. His chest was really nice, too. Really hard and defined…

_Stop touching him and get the hell outta here! _

She pulled her hand away after one more pat and then ran off down the hall.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter Eleven**

Running down hall after hall, Buffy ignored her surroundings, just knowing she was getting further and further from "the scene of the crime", which was good enough for her. She checked her hair in her reflection as she went by a window. She'd been right, the curls _had_ lasted through a fight! So busy patting herself on the back for her awesome hair skills, she almost ran right past the staircase she'd spent ages looking for. Figures it would pop up when she quit actively looking for it. Sliding to a stop, she descended two flights two stairs at a time, slowing only when she reached stretch that went to the ground floor. She walked down those slowly and primly, trying not to look guilty - like she hadn't just been spying, destroying property, knocking vampires out or kicking them out of third story windows.

Her innocent ruse was for nothing though, because there was no one down there. This wasn't the same staircase she'd gone up - she was still far from the ballroom. Giving a shrug, she decided it was probably better this way and started searching for an exit back there instead of going up front again. Lucky for her, the ground floor was much more open than the upper floors - no never ending winding hallways, just huge ornate rooms that Buffy couldn't even guess at a reason for having.

She found a backdoor through a gourmet kitchen that looked like it had never been used. Stepping out into the night, she finally took a deep breath, feeling like the rat that had just escaped the maze. She wasn't quite free yet, she still had to find Dennis after all, but that was better than being lost inside, risking getting caught any second.

She assumed that if she'd left through the front, the doorman would have a way of contacting Dennis and telling she was ready to go. With as fast as these vamps were, he'd probably just send one to follow her scent to the right car and tell her driver in person. With that thought, Buffy picked up her pace a little. She'd hate for someone to come across the mess upstairs and follow her smell to Dennis before she got there.

The grounds away from the house were pitch black, she wouldn't have been able to see her hand in front of her face if she hadn't been a Slayer. The mask wasn't helping things any, so she took a moment to pull the pins holding it in place from her hair, allowing her to take it off. She rubbed her face roughly where the mask had been - it felt itchy and greasy. And she'd only been wearing it for a few hours… She couldn't imagine how superheroes did it, wearing them all the time.

Now free from the mask, she set off again, not quite running but moving quickly. After a few minutes she caught sight of some distant lights and headed toward them cautiously. She had no idea if she was going in the right direction, but at least it was a goal. Approaching silently, she realized it was a barn as she got closer. Or at least it used to be. It looked like it had been converted into some kind of guest house. Voices drifted out, all men, mostly laughing. They must've been human because her vampy radar was only pinging distantly. Creeping up and peeking in a window, she saw lots of guys sitting around in black and white uniforms - some were playing cards, others watching a television. This must be where the human drivers hung out while they waited for their employers to be ready to leave.

Giving a sigh of relief, she scanned the room for Dennis. It only took her a moment to realize he wasn't there. Of course he wasn't, that would be too easy… Turning away from the window, lips pulled down in a frustrated frown, she wondered where he could be. She snapped her fingers as she remembered him saying he'd be studying for an exam. That would probably be hard to concentrate on with all the noise going on in there with the other drivers, so maybe he just stayed in the car.

Scanning the blackness again, she saw a tiny isolated spot of brightness. An interior light from a car maybe? Gathering her skirts up, she took off toward it, running this time. Or she tried to - her heels kept sinking in the thick grass, going all the way down into the soil before coming back out. Stopping and bending down with an annoyed curse, she quickly undid the little buckles and pulled them off. Holding them in one hand and her mask in her other, she started for the distant light again. The cool, slightly moist grass felt wonderful on her bare feet, and she wished she had time to enjoy it. She idly thought about visiting a park when she got back to New Orleans.

As she got closer, her Slayer senses picked up on a vampire - one much closer than the pack at the house. She slowed her steps, wary of an ambush. She was practically creeping when she was close enough to make out the brown haired figure of Dennis behind the wheel, a book on the dash and another propped up on the steering wheel in front of him.

Keeping her eyes and senses out for the so far unseen vampire, she tiptoed over to the driver's side door, tapping on the window softly as she kept her eyes on the darkness around them. When the window didn't go down, she tapped again with a hissed, "Dennis!" but still there was nothing. Crap, had he fallen asleep while studying? Not that she could blame him, she hadn't been known for her studying techniques either…

She didn't want to leave his side unguarded and just go get in the passenger side, not without him being alert and able to watch out for danger. But she also didn't want to take her eyes away from watching out for the threat to open the door and wake him. She had a feeling as soon as she did, whoever was out there would be on her.

Keeping her eyes scanning the area around them, she groped blindly for the door handle. Her hand slid across the cool metal, slightly damp with dew until it reached the indentation for the handle. Tugging it open and stepping to the side, she was about to call out to Dennis again when the smell hit her.

Blood.

Forgetting about the danger, she whipped around. Just in time to see Dennis slide out of the seat and onto the grass at her feet. The right side of his collar soaked in red and two bloody puncture holes in his neck. Wide brown eyes stared up at her, unseeing but somehow still accusing.

Her shoes slid between her suddenly numb fingers, hitting the ground with a thump around the same time his text book fell out of the car, bouncing off his thigh before landing next to his body with a crumple of pages. Her mask followed, swaying lightly back and forth before landing delicately on top of the blades of grass like a butterfly.

"Looks like your driver ran into a spot of trouble," a voice called out from behind her.

She didn't need to turn to know who it was, the voice was familiar as was the vampiric tingle at her back. Besides, she couldn't seem to tear her eyes away from Dennis…

"Out here, all alone, concentrating on his studies," the voice said, coming up closer. "Look, over there on the passenger seat. It looks like he was expecting someone…"

Buffy didn't want to look, but her eyes seemed to stray toward the seat all on their own. There, sitting on the passenger seat was half a sandwich, neatly wrapped in a napkin, a can of soda and a bag of chips. The napkin from his own sandwich half was stuck in the door pocket and his own can of soda was in the cup holder.

"_Maybe I'll try and sneak you out some food. Something to snack on to keep the old brain juices flowing."_

"_Uh, not sure that they'll be serving food…"_

She remembered the words with a sharp pang. Had he been saving that for her? Worried she'd be hungry?

Something was building in her. Her hands started to tremble slightly as she looked back down at Dennis.

"Such a shame when something like this happens. Makes the fragility of humans so apparent. They come and go so quickly… Take this boy for example - he'll probably be forgotten by his killer before the night is even over. The sounds he made as he struggled, the fear in his eyes, the sigh of defeat when he realized this was his end - those things will all blend in with the many other lives ended in the same manner. He won't stand out at all. Insignificant and unmemorable."

She turned around woodenly, her eyes landing on Victor's slightly rumpled and grass stained figure. A lone drop of blood stood out vividly on the lapel of his white jacket. He was smiling pleasantly, but it slipped as soon as she met his gaze. Her eyes not leaving his, she slid her left hand to where her dress started to flair out into the skirt. Feeling the tiny hole she'd made in the fabric about halfway down her left thigh, she brought her other hand around so she could grip each side of the hole and ripped - exposing Mr. Pointy strapped to her thigh.

"And what exactly do you plan on doing with that," he sneered, his amiable personality dripping away.

"I'm going to kill you," she answered simply - her words quiet and flat as she pulled Mr. Pointy free.

Even though it didn't show in her empty tone, her body was trembling with fury. It was building with each second in a way that she hadn't felt in a long time. She pulled back the bars of the Slayer's cage, feeling the power fill her and letting the anger swell.

She lunged.

* * *

><p>The gold inlay on the crown-molding was definitely an expense Threadgill should've skipped, Eric decided as he laid sprawled on the floor staring at the ceiling. It pushed the hall over the line of gaudy into the realm of tacky.<p>

And speaking of unneeded and over the top…

Her rubbed his jaw ruefully as he sat up. But he couldn't help but to chuckle at Buffy's way of "protecting" him.

"By all means, please punch me in the face," he said, pulling himself to his feet. "It's obviously for my own good."

Well, he'd thought something was different about her before, but now he knew for sure. No way should someone her size have the strength to knock him out. Wiggling his jaw a little, he shook his head in amazement. She really was something.

Not ready to give in just yet, he followed her scent down a few more halls, marveling at her apparent lack of a sense of direction, before finally coming across the back staircase. Her scent led him down and then went out the rear door onto the grounds. Standing in the doorway, he scowled out into the darkness. How long had he been unconscious? Had she already left? Was she searching for her driver or did she have alternate transportation set up? Deciding he had to know for sure, he set out across the long stretch of lawn. He was just passing a rose garden about a quarter of a mile from the house when he noticed a new, sharper smell.

Blood.

Not just any blood either. What _was_ that? His fangs slid out on their own accord and his eyes dilated as he sucked in the sweet fragrance again and again. Loaded with raw power and something dark and indefinable, it was human but at the same time not. A trace of sweetness laced through the power. Sweet and deadly, like olean-

He took off, suddenly knowing exactly who that blood belonged to. He flew over the ground, scenery whipping by. He was almost there before he noticed Victor's scent, it sent a wave of possessive rage through him. If he'd hurt her-

The thought was cut off as he saw a figure in white go tumbling across the ground. What was that amusing but senseless phrase humans sometimes used… ah yes, "ass over teakettle". The figure finally caught itself and stopped its roll, leaping to its feet and revealing it to be Victor. His eyes were blazing and his fangs were bared, clothing disheveled and stained, one suit sleeve missing altogether. He'd barely gotten to his feet when another figure darted out of the darkness and was on him.

_Buffy…_

If he'd thought she'd been incredible taking down those Fellowship men, it was nothing compared to now. She was astonishingly fast as she attacked Victor, throwing two punches in rapid succession that he was only partially able to block and sending him stumbling. Before he had a chance to defend himself, she followed up the barrage with a sharp kick to his stomach. He spun, lessening the blow and made a grab for her, but she ducked, dropping low and popping back up while he was off balance, the wickedly sharp stake she had in her hand aimed right for his chest. He threw himself to the side at the last second, the stake catching the white fabric of his clothing and only scratching his shoulder instead of killing him. A split second later she was after him again.

He watched with her movements with the eye of a warrior, ever more impressed with her skill with each passing moment. It was plain to him now why Sophie-Anne would want her working for her. Super-spy she was not, but she was something much more valuable. A human girl, unnoticed and overlooked by vampires, able to get places others couldn't, hear things not meant to be heard - and able to kill anyone that stood in her way. The possibilities of such a person's use were endless and he found himself salivating over the idea of possessing her. The worthless pawn that could turn into a knight.

But Victor was no ordinary vampire. While he didn't have Eric's own battle experience, he was far from helpless and more cunning than most. As he watched, Victor took another kick to the side, but this time his hand wrapped in the folds of her long flowing dress and yanked harshly. Sending her crashing to the ground with a winded "umph". He was on her immediately, his body pinning hers and his hands holding down her arms. She thrashed and cursed underneath him, terrible and beautiful in her fury.

Victor smiled and went for her throat.

With a blur of movement, Eric darted forward, snatching down a heavy tree limb as he went. He _almost_ used it to stake him, but logic kicked in and had him bringing the wood across Victor's head in a brutal swing instead.

Dark hair bloomed red and he toppled to the side, losing his grip on Buffy and landing on his side next to her, unconscious. She was up immediately. Eric barely had time to snatch her arm in midair as she started to bring the stake down on Victor.

"What are you doing?" She yelled. "Let go!"

Her green eyes were practically shooting off sparks they were so furious and her mouth was pulled into an angry snarl. Soft skin almost burned beneath his fingers as he fought to keep her from staking Victor. He had to pull out every ounce of his self control not to just yank her to him and do wonderful and horrendous things to her. Not making it any easier on him was the smell of her blood, wrapping around him with her nearness and testing him, tempting him. He'd seen the small scratches on her back, and put them together with the smashed back window on the town car. There was another dash of blood at the corner of her mouth. If only he could just run his tongue over-

Another sharp yank on her arm as she attempted to break free forced his focus back.

"Stop this, you can't kill him," he said, again surprised by her strength as she kept trying to pull away. He noticed she wasn't attacking him though.

"The hell I can't," she hissed. "It's easy - the pointy piece of wood does all the work."

"Don't you think I would've staked him myself if that were an option?"

She snorted, but stilled, "And kill your vampy buddy? Please."

"Far from it. Seeing Victor die would be a wonderful end to the evening. But not at my expense," he said. Seeing that he finally had her attention, he went on. "The smell of your blood will reach the house any moment and hordes of vampires will come rushing. I'd rather not be found with a spy, a dead human and a dead vampire - one that happens to have a fair amount of influence and whose maker is _not_ someone I'd like to owe reparations to. Oh, and let's not forget the large piece of wood with my scent all over it. They'd never believe you were the one that killed him and not me. So, as much as I'd like to see Victor with a stake in his chest, my own wellbeing outweighs that desire."

"He killed Dennis…"

Her eyes wandered over to the dead human by the car, but the fight had gone out of her - her fury replaced by a defeated sadness. He took a step over, blocking her view of the body. That look on her face bothered him…

"Victor isn't going to disappear," he said, his gaze intense as he ducked his head to look into her eyes. "He holds a significant position in Nevada and will be easy to find should you decide to go after him. Just be smart about it. This is not the time."

She looked back at him silently, as if weighing his sincerity. He fought to keep his barely leashed control as he waited. Being this close to her, to her blood, without draining her or fucking her was almost painful.

"Fine," she finally agreed, tugging her arm away from his now loose grip and walking around him to get to the car.

She bent down next to the body, grabbing her shoes and mask and tossing them carelessly over the driver's seat, into the passenger floorboard. With much more care, she picked up a book and gently straightened its pages before setting it on the seat lightly. Next she turned her attention on the body. He moved forward as soon as he saw what her intention was.

"You have to leave him."

"Not happening," she said flatly. "He comes with me."

"His body needs to be disposed of. It can't come out-"

"His family needs to know what happened to him! I'm not leaving him here for you to make him 'disappear'. They'll always wonder where he is, what happened! I won't do that to them. And he deserves better than some shallow grave on some stuck-up vampire's property."

"We don't have time for this," he snarled, his frustration with her stubbornness getting the best of him. "The smell of your blood could reach the house any second. You have to go _now_."

"Then help me put him in the damn car and let me go!"

He fought off the urge to shake her, knowing that wouldn't do any good (although it might make him feel better). With a curse he hadn't used if close to two hundred years he grabbed the dead driver off the ground and put him in the backseat, throwing the tree limb on the floor while he was at it. When he turned around and saw the look on her face, he lost some of his ire.

"Take the car to a bad area and set it on fire," he said softly. Her eyes never left the backseat, so he shut the door, drawing her eyes to him.

Her face twisted in disgust, "I'm not burning his body."

"If you don't, vampires will be blamed and even more will turn to places like the Fellowship of the Sun."

"Vampires will be blamed because _a vampire did it."_

He closed his eyes, time was running short…

"Yes, a vampire did it. But do you think the one that did it will be the only one held accountable? We will all take the blame for this. Any time a human dies from a vampire, the entirety of us take the blame. What of the ones that truly are trying to live among humans? Live off the synthetic blood? Do they deserve to get staked or bombed because of the actions of a few?"

He watched the expressions flash across her face with lightening speed before settling on weary acceptance. She gave him a nod and got in the driver's seat, settling the book over on the other seat with care before driving off without another word.

Eric watched the tail lights disappear into the dark and thought that he might just have to change his opinion on these parties.

This one most certainly hadn't been boring.

* * *

><p>Buffy guided the car onto the road, hands wrapped so tightly around the wheel that her knuckles were white. Her jaw was clenched and her lip trembled slightly. Glancing in the rearview mirror at her silent passenger her throat tightened. She turned her burning eyes back to the dark stretch of blacktop.<p>

For the first time since she'd arrived in this world, she wanted nothing more than to go home.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter Twelve**

Buffy slid her cards through the readers and made her way up to her apartment sluggishly. Her limbs felt heavy, eyes gritty. Although she'd traded her gown for a faded t-shirt and a pair of jeans at a Little Rock Salvation Army, she still reeked of smoke from the car, and body, she'd set on fire. After all the people she'd lost, innocents she'd failed to protect, loved ones gone forever, you'd think one more wouldn't make much of a difference. But that wasn't the case at all. It still felt like a little part of her turned to ash as she watched that car burn.

At that point she hadn't cared a bit about Sophie-Anne's carefully laid out instructions or the myriad of different flights and deceptions that she was supposed to be going through. Instead, she hitchhiked back to New Orleans. It took her two days, but beside the no bathing and the occasional perv, she'd preferred it over the crowded airports. Her grief was private, the less people she had to be around the better.

She'd just gotten back, having had her last ride drop her off middle of the French Quarter and then walking to the apartment building. Luckily she'd had the foresight to tuck her keycards and a little money in the bodice of her dress that night. She was supposed to have gotten back late last night and immediately meet with Sophie-Anne about what she'd found out at the party. She couldn't find it in her to care that she'd missed the appointment.

Going down the last stretch of hallway toward her door, she ignored the paintings that usually caught her eye. All she wanted was a bath and to sleep. She hadn't slept in… she couldn't remember how long. Even before the masquerade sleep had been sparse because of the hectic travel arrangements. But even though that's what she _wanted_, that wasn't what she was going to do. At least not the sleep part. Even in her sadness she couldn't stand the reek of smoke clinging to her hair anymore. But after her shower she had something to do. Something more important than reports to Sophie-Anne or sleep.

She was going back to the graveyard to look for a way home.

Coming to a stop in front of her apartment, she'd just gotten the key in the lock when she heard the door behind her open. Her hand stilled and she gave an involuntary sigh.

"You were supposed to be back yesterday," a rough voice said behind her.

She gave a shrug.

"The Queen was expecting you."

Another sigh escaped her and she finished unlocking her door. She didn't bother shutting it behind her, knowing that the barrier wouldn't stop Rasul from following.

"You smell like smoke. And sweat. And dirt."

"I was near a fire," she answered simply. The sound of her voice was jarring. Rusty and unfamiliar.

She ignored him as she went over to the kitchen, getting a glass of water and looking out the window at the lights of New Orleans.

"What happened?"

"Someone died," she said, sitting her glass on the counter and still not looking at Rasul. "I was playing I Spy and an innocent person died."

"Oh," he answered quietly.

"Yeah… 'oh'."

She left him sitting in the living room and went off to take her shower. The hot water felt wonderful and she let her mind focus only on that. When she was clean and dressed she went back out to the living room to find Rasul was still sitting there. His brow furrowed and a torn look on his face.

"I didn't tell anybody, you know. About the bite marks."

She stopped, blinking at him in confusion for a moment before she realized what he was talking about. She'd completely forgotten about him seeing her scars. And it had seemed so important…

"Why didn't you?" She asked, curiosity peeking through as she took a seat on the couch next to him.

"Because I'm an idiot," he answered with a sigh as he slumped back in his seat, glaring at the ceiling.

"You were trying to protect me…" she wondered. "Even though you thought I was a liar, you still didn't want me to get in trouble."

He gave a snort but didn't argue. After a beat he ticked his eyes back over at her.

"What do you mean 'thought' you were a liar. You _are_ a liar, Mrs. I've Never Seen a Vampire Before. Did those bite marks just magically appear one day?"

"I wasn't lying," she said, leaning back next to him, her eyes on the ceiling this time. "I told you I was a protector where I come from, remember? I protected people from all sorts of things. Some of which are bite-y."

"Like a vampire."

"Yes, but not," she said, trying to find a way to explain without coming out and telling him everything. While she appreciated his not telling anyone about the marks on her neck, that didn't mean she was ready to trust him with all of her secrets.

"Well, that explains everything," he said sarcastically.

"I don't know what else to tell you," she said, throwing her hands up. She was too tired and depressed to be having this argument. "I fought against a lot of bad stuff. I got bit. Just because I've never seen anything like you vampires before doesn't mean I haven't seen other stuff."

They sat in silence for a few minutes. Buffy trying not to fall asleep and wondering if she should say something to Rasul about her leaving. Rasul next to her, quiet and still - probably thinking up a hundred new questions to ask since that seemed to be what he did best.

"You're pretty upset about this guy that died, aren't you?" He finally asked, not moving.

"Yeah."

"Did you come here looking for a break from what you were doing? Protecting people? Because that's not exactly what you got," he said with a humorless huff of laughter.

"No actually," she answered. "I came here because I was bored. There were lots of other people that started doing what I did. They didn't really need me anymore."

"Oh, so us vampires are just a form of entertainment to you?" He asked, shooting her a smirk and paraphrasing her own snippy comment from before.

"Yep, pretty much," she said with a little smile. She still felt like crap about Dennis, but maybe that knot in her chest just loosened a little.

"You really do need to meet with the Queen," he said after a companionable silence, breaking the moment.

She bit back the first three answers that came to mind - all of which involved variations of the word no. He would just keep dogging her until she gave in anyway.

"Fine," she said unenthusiastically. "Let's get it over with."

The cemetery would still be there after she met with Sophie-Anne.

Rasul held back on his questioning all the way down to the car, much to Buffy's relief. It didn't last long though.

"Are you leaving?" Rasul asked her abruptly as they drove to the compound.

Buffy whipped her head over to look at him. "Wh-what?"

"I'll take that as a yes," he said, his eyes locked on the road and a grim expression on his face.

"Why would you say that?"

"I was just thinking maybe you decided boredom was better than what you were doing here."

"Oh," she said. "Well, yeah, I was thinking about it. I just- having him die like that…" She trailed off, unsure exactly what she wanted to say. "Before, when someone died because I wasn't strong enough or fast enough or didn't get there in time… that was bad enough. But it's not like I _caused_ them to get attacked, you know? I didn't save them and they died, but they would've died if I _hadn't_ been there either… Dennis died _because_ of me. If I hadn't come here, if I hadn't been at that masquerade, he would still be alive."

"Someone killed him to get to you?" Rasul asked, his voice sharp as he took his eyes off the road to send her an intense look. Obviously he'd just thought she felt bad because her driver got offed, he hadn't understood exactly why (or maybe he just hadn't cared).

She nodded, "I had a run in with a vampire named Victor Madden-"

She was cut off by a low snarl from Rasul as he whipped the car around a corner with a little too much force.

"I guess you know who that is…"

"I've only met him once, which was more than enough. But I've heard the stories," Rasul answered tightly.

"Well, we had a little bit of a confrontation," she said evasively.

"How 'little'?"

"He tried to bite me and I kicked him through a window." He turned to gape at her, sending a buzz of panic through her. "Eyes on the road! Eyes! Road!"

"You _kicked_ Victor _Madden_ through a _window_?" She gave a little nod and he turned back to look at the road, executing a perfect turn into the gated entrance before he burst out laughing.

Even though she was a little peeved that he thought her fighting method was that funny, the sound of his genuine amusement loosened that knot of sadness just a little more.

Buffy rolled her eyes as he continued to laugh even after he'd parked the car and turned off the ignition. Deciding she didn't have all day to wait on him to get over his attack of the giggles, she left him in the car and went on to Sophie-Anne's office on her own.

She found the Queen of Louisiana in the same room she'd been in the previous times Buffy'd met with her, behind the same grand desk. Her attention was glued to Buffy as soon as she came in from the hall. With a nod of her head, she indicated Buffy should shut the door. She did so and took the seat across from her.

"You are late by an entire day. Was there trouble?"

What a loaded question. Buffy gave a snort. "You could say that."

"Would it have anything to do with Victor Madden being found on the estate grounds," she asked, her face and voice bland. "Knocked unconscious with the smell of human blood on him. Would you happen to know anything about that?"

"He attacked me. Killed my driver."

For a brief second Sophie-Anne looked surprised. "He killed your driver?"

Buffy quickly gave her the rundown of the events at the masquerade. From her and Victor's confrontations to what she'd heard when she tailed Peter Threadgill. Sophie-Anne actually gave the tiniest of smiles, quickly covered by a hand, when she heard of Victor's encounter with the window. Apparently Mr. Madden wasn't very popular.

She found herself once again leaving Eric out of the story though, seamlessly weaving the tale around him. She wasn't exactly sure why, but she felt like it was important that his presence there remain a secret. Plus, if the Queen got pissed when she disappeared and went back home, she didn't want her thinking he helped her.

The thought of the huge blond made her feel a little warmer and she had a brief pang of regret that she wouldn't get to see him again.

Shaking him from her mind she told Sophie-Anne of Dennis's death and how she'd left the estate, taking his body and leaving Victor unconscious.

"I'm surprised you didn't kill him," she said bluntly, shrewd eyes assessing Buffy.

"I almost did," Buffy answered. She let the statement settle as it was, not trying to elaborate. Any reasoning she might come up with, excuses for not killing him, would come out sounding false. She knew she wasn't the greatest liar, the less she said the better.

"Sorry about your marriage," Buffy said, partially sincere, but more hoping to move the conversation away from spots where she might stumble.

"I'll still wed him."

"What? Why? You know he's up to something!"

"Yes, I do. And knowing that gives me the advantage. I'll be ready for him when he decides to make his move. But until then, the state will benefit from the union."

Buffy shook her head, still not really getting why anyone would want to be married to someone they knew would stab them in the back the moment they got the chance.

"And your driver? Have the car and his body been recovered by the local authorities yet?"

Buffy's shoulders tensed, she gave a nod and answered stiffly. "I heard the sirens heading that way when I was a few blocks off, so I'm sure they have."

The Queen was watching her closely, her head tilted like an inquisitive animal.

"You blame yourself…" Sophie-Anne said, more curious than sympathetic.

"You're damn right I do!" Buffy burst out. "If it weren't for me, if I'd never come here, if I hadn't taken this job, if I hadn't been there at the masquerade, he'd still be alive."

"That is true…" Sophie-Anne's conformation bit through Buffy. It was one thing to think it, it was another to have someone agree. "But what of those in Dallas?"

"Huh?"

"There were over a dozen humans in Stan Davis's home. They would not be alive if you hadn't come here and agreed to work for me."

Buffy wasn't stupid, she knew perfectly well that Sophie-Anne wasn't trying to cheer her up. She must have sensed Buffy was on the verge of walking away and just wanted her to stick around. Still… The knot lessened some more. Her grief over Dennis's lost life didn't lessen any, but knowing she'd actually done isome/i good while she was here did help her feel a little better.

"You're taking this awfully well," Buffy said, realizing she'd expected more glowering over the way things had gone at Threadgill's masquerade. "I was pretty much the opposite of stealthy. I got in a fight with someone who I guess is pretty important, messed up the King's house, and got a guy killed. That's a pretty far cry from 'discreet'."

"Yet you weren't caught. Victor has made no mention of you that I know of. From what I've heard, he's remained surprisingly tight lipped about how he ended up where he was found - probably loathe to admit he was beaten by a human woman. That and the fact he killed someone on the King of Arkansas's property, broke the law while he was a guest and could've brought down some very severe repercussions. Either way, he's holding his tongue about you. And let's not forget you completed the task I gave to you. I now know that Peter is indeed up to something. You have a rather… unorthodox approach, but you are effective."

Buffy sat openmouthed, unprepared for the bit of praise. "Uh… thanks."

Sophie-Anne nodded and picked her pen back up. "You may go now."

Buffy got up slowly, still a little shocked, and headed for the door. She'd just grasped the handle when Sophie-Anne spoke again.

"And Buffy, if you should decide to return, your job and apartment will be waiting."

Buffy spun, eyes wide. But Sophie-Anne was already absorbed in the papers in front of her. Circling and signing. She opened her mouth, whether to make a denial, to point out how unlikely it would be that she'd return or to just say thank you, she wasn't sure. In the end she just gave a nod that the Queen paid no attention to and left. As she got in the elevator, her mind still spinning, she could've sworn she saw Bill Compton heading down the hall as the doors slid shut.

She met up with Rasul outside the building where he was leaning against the wall waiting for her. For the first time she noticed he wasn't in his SWAT-like gear. Must've been his day off, but he still came with her…

He straightened when he saw her, giving a little grin. "Didn't hear anything breaking, so I guess her Highness wasn't too mad about your flying lesson with Victor."

"I think she actually thought it was funny. Though she wasn't as obnoxious about showing it as you were."

"Psh, _you're_ obnoxious."

"Nice comeback."

"Go out with me tonight," he said abruptly.

"Wh- no," she stuttered, thrown off by the sudden topic change. "I have things to do."

"Things that involve you leaving, I know. But we never got to go out on our bar tour. You can't go before we do."

His voice had lapsed into an almost-whine by the end that made her lips twitch. She really should go back to the graveyard. Even though she was feeling a little better about things in general, she'd made up her mind that she was going home. What if when she went there she was whisked away, back to her own dimension? No fuss, no muss? She'd never see Rasul again. That was extremely unlikely of course, but if by some miracle it _did_ happen…

"Okay, fine," she said with an eye roll. He'd been so great during this whole thing. He hadn't asked for anything, hadn't worked an angle, hadn't tried to drink from her or anything. The least she could do was go out bar hopping with him before she left if that was what he wanted.

He gave a triumphant grin and ushered her back to the car. She'd expected to go somewhere like where they'd met - a little place there in the heart of New Orleans. But the bar he took her to was on the outskirts of the city. A little rundown looking building with a gravel parking lot and a big orange neon sign naming it as the "Dead Gator" with a little picture of an alligator with big fangs and x's for eyes. Humans were streaming out of the club, all of them fang-bangers. As always, they made her think of her old friend Ford and his little group, giving her a little twinge of sadness.

"Looks like it's closing time," she said.

"For them, yeah. For us, the night's just starting," he said, shooting her a fangy grin. He was excited about something.

They parked around back, probably so he wouldn't be accosted by the vampire groupies leaving from the front, and walked right in the employee entrance. Inside was pretty standard as far as back rooms in bars go. A hall with a couple rooms off to the sides, employee bathrooms, offices, storerooms, etc. And pushing through a swinging door out into the main bar was just as uninspiring. A wooden floor with a small stage for bands, a dance floor and bunch of tables ringing it. A bar with all kinds of neon beer, alcohol and synthetic blood signs sat on the opposite wall from the stage. Buffy felt a little conspicuous as they approached a gathering of about twenty vamps standing in a clump on the dance floor - she was the only human there.

"As far as the vampy bar experience goes, gotta say I'm already disappointed," she groused as he led her toward the group.

"You'll change your mind about that in a minute," he said, shooting her a mischievous smile. "I made a few calls while I was waiting for you."

"Calls about?"

"You'll see," he sing-songed.

They reached the group and Rasul nodded and gave a few spoken greetings. Buffy smiled, but all she got in return were either curious stares or complete indifference. She followed behind Rasul as he made his way through the little knot of vampires, almost bumping into him as he came to a stop.

"Buffy," he said as she came to stand beside him, unable to see past his broad body. Her jaw dropped open as soon as she caught sight of the vampire they were standing in front of. "I'd like you to meet-"

"Holy crap! That's-"

"Bubba," Rasul said, a little too loudly and over enunciating. "His name is Bubba, Buffy."

Unfortunately Buffy was too far gone to notice.

"Elvis! It's freakin' _Elvis_!"

The entire room went still and silent immediately. Buffy, still staring, watched the slow transformation from pleasant crooked smile to confusion to anguish to rage in fascination.

"Oh _shit_," someone whispered behind her.

Then with a horrible bellow, Elvis went into Hulk Smash mode.

The whole thing was just so completely _insane_, and it happened so quickly, that Buffy just kind of stood there and gaped as he swung around catching a few vampires with flailing arms and sending them flying. She barely got her senses together enough to dodge back when he swung at her, all teeth and pompadour and batshitcrazy eyes.

"Hit him!" Rasul shouted, on the verge of a very unmanly shriek. "Knock him out!"

Buffy turned toward him, aghast. "I can't hit Elvis!"

At that point, a hand grabbed the back of her shirt and sent her soaring into a group of tables and chairs. She heard Rasul yell her name and then a low growl.

"Rasul! Don't you dare hurt Elvis!" She yelled, burrowing her way out of the mess.

Someone else yelled, "Stop saying his goddamned name!"

Seconds later Rasul landed in a heap next to her.

"I think it's time for a strategic retreat," he said, blinking up at the ceiling slightly dazed.

"'Strategic retreat'. I like that. Good idea."

Together they started crawling through the wreckage toward the nearest exit, leaving berserker Elvis behind.

"I can't believe you said his name," Rasul grumped as he army crawled next to her.

She paused to watch another unfortunate vamp sail through the air before turning her disgruntled gaze on Rasul.

"If you didn't want me to say it, maybe you should've, I don't know, _warned me_."

"That would've ruined the surprise."

"Uh huh, that worked out well."

"Shut up," he huffed. "I'll never live this down - being the one that brought the human that said his name… And he was going to sing too! Can't take you anywhere..."

"We're surrounded by pointy wood, I'd lay off if I were you," she growled.

"Shit, we _are_ surrounded by pointy wood. I could've been killed!" He said, eyes wide like he'd just realized the peril of being thrown around a room with breakable wooden objects when you were a vampire.

"You still might be if you keep whining."

They eventually got to the exit, exchanging barbs the entire way. Once outside, they both gave a sigh of relief - only Buffy's was actually needed - and stared back at the club, the sounds of yelling and things breaking was tapering off.

"I just saw vampire Elvis fly off the handle and destroy a night club."

Rasul nodded.

"That's just… _so cool_."

Rasul burst out laughing and Buffy joined in. They kept laughing as they made their way toward the car, Rasul saying something about trying to find a place to go where she couldn't cause a riot, then wondering if there even _was _such a place. And Buffy arguing that nothing they could possible do now would top MethRageElvis.

She was finally feeling a little more like herself, her sadness over Dennis's loss still there, but her depression over it seeping away. It didn't change anything though, she decided as the went on to the next bar. She was still going home.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter Thirteen**

Buffy walked down a busy road in the French Quarter, eyes half-lidded behind dark glasses, both from the viciousness of the sun and from her hangover. It was only eleven and already the heat was a physical weight, slowing her steps as if she were walking through molasses. Sweat gathered in the little indentation between her chin and lower lip, tickled at her hair line, made the back and the armpits of her shirt stick to her. That combined with her bourbon headache were making for a wonderful start to the day.

She hadn't really drank much last night, but for someone not really used to drinking at all, it was too much. Still, she'd forced herself out of bed at nine after getting in just before the sun rose. She knew she had to get this done with today - if she waited, she had no doubt that Rasul would find some new way to distract her.

Not that that was a terrible thing - she'd had a great time last night. More fun that she'd had in a really, _really_ long time. She'd been right, nothing had topped the fit of insanity at the Dead Gator, but she'd still had a lot of fun at the other bars they'd gone to. She found vampires here to pretty much as different from one another as people were. Vamps at home all wore different faces but were mostly the same - all 'grr argh' and blood obsessed. Here they had a few commonalities, an annoying sense of obvious superiority over humans being the biggest one, but for the most part were each different and interesting in their own ways. Some were disgusted by humans, some were indifferent, others were curious. They had their own jobs and hobbies, tastes in music and partners. Over all it had been both informative and fun bopping around town with Rasul for the night.

A pang of regret hit her as she turned down the sidewalk toward Jackson Square. She'd missed hanging out with her friends back home, but she hadn't realized exactly how much of that was actually just missing _having_ good friends and not just missing Xander and Will in particular. She was sure when she got back that Willow would still be busy with Kennedy and Xander would be off in Scotland - it didn't make returning very appealing.

Part of her was telling her to stay, calling her a coward, a baby, for running away because she lost one person. That voice asked her when running away had become her fall back plan. But, it wasn't as if she'd just failed to protect Dennis. It wasn't a case of blame simply because she wasn't there. He was dead _because_ of her. His death told her quite plainly that she didn't belong there.

So despite the fact that she desperately wanted to go to Nevada, to go after Victor for what he'd done to Dennis, she was still leaving. Afraid of how many more people might die because of her if she did. She sighed and rubbed a temple as that little voice called her a coward again - asked how she could let him live knowing how dangerous he was, what he'd done. But she pushed it away. She wasn't this world's protector.

A big truck rumbled by, spewing diesel fumes and almost making her barf on the sidewalk. Ugh, why did Louisiana residents love huge stinky trucks so much… The day was just going wonderfully so far. It was all she could do not to just turn around and go back to her apartment and hide in bed for the rest of the day.

Besides the sun's vendetta against her, her hangover and her mind's tangled argument, she'd also already been to Marie Laveau's crypt that morning. She had stood there for ten minutes hoping something magical would happen before conceding that it wouldn't be that easy. She'd poked, prodded, pleaded with and kicked the crypt, but absolutely nothing magical at all happened.

So now she was on her way to a magic store. The Genuine Magic Shop to be exact. She'd see how _genuine_ it was. She was holding out hope for something a little more authentic than hunks of quartz, incense and crystal balls but had to admit it might take some digging to find a store that sold _real_ magic stuff.

She finally caught sight of the little store just ahead, giving a sigh of relief that she'd actually remembered where it was since she'd only seen it once before. Pushing the door open, a little bell chimed. That along with the smell of the place were familiar enough, but it was the sight of it that induced a wave of nostalgia so strong it left her lightheaded.

It was set up almost exactly the same as the Magic Box had been…

She stood there in the entranceway, pretending to be interested in a stack of Wiccan Cooking books while she got her wits together and let the air conditioning soak into her overheated body. Once she felt like she could look at the store without the lump in her throat choking her, she walked further in.

Candles and incense, skulls and crystal balls, old books mixed with new. It was a mix of what was popular and what was practical. Her hope grew that maybe she'd found a place that could actually help her. Stepping down into the little sunken area where the cash register sat, she spotted an employee. Looked like the _only_ employee actually.

A darkly tanned girl about her age and height with short brown hair was behind the counter, wrapping up a purchase for an older woman who looked to be the only customer in the store. The girl shot Buffy a big bright smile when she caught sight of her.

"Welcome to the Genuine Magic Shop," she said, handing the woman her purchase. "Is there anything I can help you find?"

"I need to open a dimensional portal," she said bluntly. No use in beating around the bush, if the girl thought she was crazy she'd know to move on to a different place.

There was a beat of silence where both women stared at her, then the girl behind the counter gave off a loud, very fake, laugh. She shot an indulgent look of mirth at her customer who was backing away, giving Buffy a wide berth.

"Kids these days with their crazy talk. Let me get you some meditation crystals so you can open a portal to peace of mind."

With that she shot the older woman one more big smile and went around the counter, grabbing Buffy by the arm none to gently and dragging her off toward the crystal display.

"Listen, I really don't need any crystals. I need-"

"What the hell do you think you're doing saying something like that in front of a regular customer? People will start thinking only freaks come her and stay away!"

"Um, yeah, sorry," she said, not sorry at all. "But obviously I picked the wrong place."

She turned to go, disappointment eating at her gut. But the girl reached out and grabbed her arm again, stopping her.

"No, no, you're in the right place. It's just most of our clientele are just regular people wanting to pretend they're witches, you know? That and tourists. The place doesn't make enough on the real stuff to stay in business, so if the owner finds out I've been letting good customers get scared off then she'll have my head."

"So you _do_ know about dimensional portals?"

"Of course I do, I'm a witch," she said proudly. "I'm Amelia, by the way."

She held out her hand, and Buffy shook it distractedly.

"Buffy. So you can open one?" Buffy asked.

"Yep, sure can," Amelia said, looking puffed up. Then she deflated. "Except I can't."

"You can but you can't. Well, that makes the kind of sense that doesn't."

"I mean, skill wise, I could do it. But I'm not supposed to. Things of that magical level are supposed to be monitored by a kind of mentor for younger witches like me."

"So just get the mentor person on the phone and let's get to work," Buffy said with a shrug, still not seeing the problem.

"There's no way they'd approve the opening of another dimension. There's too much risk."

"What kind of risk?"

"Well, I mean, it depends on what you're opening it for."

Buffy paused, not sure how much to tell this Amelia person. But in the end, she decided she didn't have much choice if she wanted to get home. She'd have to go out on a limb and tell her what she really needed.

"I need to travel to a different dimension," she said, waiting for the shock and gasping and questions.

But none came, instead Amelia just nodded. "Okay, well, there's the fact that there's no sure-fire way back. Magic in each dimension is a little different. What works here won't necessarily work there. Of course there's also the threat of something bad from where you're going sneaking through, but that's pretty low, these doors are pretty much one way. The main danger is to you. Dimensional travel is really tough on the body. If the two worlds aren't that far apart, meaning they're pretty similar, then the risk goes down. But its still high enough to worry about."

"How bad is it?" Buffy asked, starting to worry a little. Her trip here hadn't been much fun, but it hadn't been that bad either. Then again, it had been more of a freakish accident than an interdimensional doorway - which she doubted very much could be repeated.

"It could range from nothing more than a headache and some muscle weakness to… death."

"Death?" Buffy squeaked.

Amelia nodded solemnly. "There are other factors that go into it of course. If a person is at all magical, it makes the trip smoother. But if they've traveled between worlds before, the risk is higher. The phase of the moon, the quality of the spell ingredients, if you've eaten hummus in the last forty-eight hours, etcetera, etcetera. They all add in."

_Traveled between worlds before…_ Hmm, that could be a problem. But what really stuck with Buffy was…

"Hummus? Really?"

Amelia half nodded, half shrugged. "Magic is a fickle bitch sometimes."

"No kidding…"

They sat in silence for a few minutes, Amelia idly dusting trinkets on a shelf while Buffy put her thinking-cap on.

"Okay," she said finally. "You can't do it and your mentor won't do it. Can _I_ do it?"

Amelia dropped the fertility statue she'd been polishing, it hit the ground and a nipple snapped off.

"Can _you_ do it?" She said, sounding insulted.

"Uh, I think that needed its nipple," Buffy said, distracted from her train of thought by the broken statue. "Don't fertility statues hold their power in their boobs or something? Isn't that why they're always naked? The nipple's a pretty important part…"

"Yeah, it's useless now. I'll have to pay for it," she said, her tone turning accusing as she squatted to scoop up the statue and the nipple.

"Uh, I'll pay for it," Buffy said, feeling bad. "Maybe I can glue the nipple back on. Gift it to somebody…"

Amelia shrugged and shoved the two pieces at her. Buffy took them and dropped them in her purse, sure the little nipple would probably get lost among all the crap in there but not wanting to take the time to find a safe place for it.

"Right, so you think you can just open a dimensional portal by yourself," she said, crossing her arms. "Like it's something anybody can do? Witches have to study for years to get to that level and then still have to be monitored and _you_ think _you_ can just waltz right up and just, like, read it out of a book and be fine?"

"Uh… I can't?"

"I don't know, maybe," Amelia said, her offended look quickly shifting to thoughtful. And people thought _she_ had weird mood swings… "You'd have to buy all the spell stuff and I could write down what you needed to do… It won't be easy though. And you'll probably die."

"Oh, well, um…" Buffy said, blinking at the predicted doom. "Dying isn't really what I had in mind for today… Why don't we go ahead and get the stuff together, get the instructions written down, and if I feel like I'm in over my head I won't go through with it."

"You're pretty ballsy. And crazy," Amelia said, looking a little impressed.

"You're helping me, so that makes you kinda crazy too."

"True," she said, bright blue eyes sparkling. "I'm curious to find out if you can actually pull it off."

"Only one way to find out."

"Oh! You'll need something from that dimension, to direct the portal where it's supposed to connect to."

Buffy waved a hand, unconcerned. "Not a problem."

Amelia looked surprised for a second and then like she wanted to pry, but stopped herself.

"Right then, I'll have to look for all the stuff you'll need, I'm not sure where it all is…" Amelia said, looking around the store thoughtfully. "I usually don't work out here in the store part, I read fortunes in the back, but I'm covering for someone today."

"Why don't I go grab us some lunch while you write down the instructions. Then I can study them while you look for the ingredients," Buffy suggested.

"That'll work," Amelia answered with nod, then asked, "Can I make a lunch request?"

Fifteen minutes later, as Buffy stood in line at the Chinese place down the street, she wished she'd said no to Amelia's request. Her sloshy bourbon belly was not happy about the smells going on in there. After getting Amelia's order, which she'd refused to look at as they dished it up, she made a quick stop at a deli on the way back and got herself a plain ham and cheese with a bottle of water.

The rest of the day was spent in the magic shop, pouring over old books and the written pages Amelia had given her, while the witch alternated between helping customers, gathering ingredients and explaining things to Buffy.

Amelia had a kind of focused energy and an upbeat but blunt personality that Buffy found she enjoyed. Between Amelia and Rasul, it was getting harder and harder to keep her determination to go.

_And Eric, don't forget Eric…_ a little voice whispered. Yes, Eric… like she could forget about him. With a presence as large and commanding as his body, he definitely stuck in one's mind. Her eyes slid out of focus as she thought of him, the words on the page going blurry and indistinct. He seemed to pop up when she was least expecting it. It was a shame she wouldn't find out what random place he'd appear at next…

_Stop that_, she told herself harshly as she straightened in her chair and went back to studying the book.

But part of her couldn't help but compare what she was leaving to what she was going back to.

A witch here who was funny and helpful, who worked in a magic store that felt like home as soon as Buffy had walked in. A witch that could possibly be a really good friend. The one at home was already a good friend, her best friend, but was busy with her own life these days. She hadn't seen Willow in months… And the magic shop that had felt like home there was long gone...

The guy that lived across the hall and tried to look out for her. Who took her to meet crazy vampire Elvis. Who she had fun with and laughed with and made her feel better about how crappy this world or any world could be. The guy at home that had done all that and more for years, but now she barely talked to. A guy that had had so much loss in his life since he'd met her that he was hardly the same person. Sure he was still funny and loveable Xander, but there was something darker, quieter, about him these days. When was the last time he'd gone out and had a good time, with her or Willow or _anybody_? Not since Anya died. Now all he did was run operations for the new slayers.

Then there was the beautiful blond vampire who kept showing up and covering for her. Eric, who made that little tingle of warmth that she hadn't felt in ages flame to life. Who was exciting and dangerous and so tall and broad it made her a little lightheaded just thinking about it. What was at home waiting for her? Nothing. Her love life was pathetic. Less than pathetic. Nonexistent. There was another blond vampire there, one who'd she'd loved and lost. Who was shorter and thinner than Eric, but who's personality was larger than life. Who'd come back and not even bothered to call her. Then there was Angel, her first love who always managed to keep a place in her heart through it all. Dark and brooding and undeniably sexy. Who was running L.A.'s branch of the most evil corporation in the world. Who'd fallen in love with _Cordelia_ of all people, if the rumors she'd heard were right. Who was dating a werewolf. Who went Super Souless Serial Killer if they got pelvic.

"You're having second thoughts?" Amelia said from right next to her, making Buffy jump a little. "Or is it too complicated?"

"Yes to the second thoughts," she said, leaning back in her chair and rubbing her eyes. "No to the too complicated, at least not where the spell's concerned. It's a lot, but I think if I go slow and take my time I can do it."

Amelia bit her lip and rocked back on her heels, like she was trying to hold something in. She didn't last long.

"Why are you doing this? The risks are pretty big and you just said you're having second thoughts, so why travel to another dimension at all?"

"There's the complicated part," Buffy said with a humorless smirk. "I just- It's better that I go."

"You're sure?"

"No," Buffy snorted. "But… yes? I don't really want to, but I think it's the right decision."

Amelia looked like she wanted to prod some more, but finally just gave a nod and a small smile. "Okay then. But if you make it back, come find me. I want to hear all about it."

Buffy opened her mouth to tell her that she probably wouldn't be back, but in the end just gave her a nod and promised she would come see her if she came back.

An hour later, Amelia had all the stuff together, Buffy had read the instructions, asked all the questions she could think of and paid for the items along with Amelia's time (even though the witch had insisted she didn't need to be for her time, Buffy said she'd used her skills to help her out and should be paid as such, causing Amelia to puff up once again, obviously happy to think her abilities were good enough to get paid for). Now the two of them were standing awkwardly by the front door, neither sure what to say.

"So… I hope you don't die," Amelia tried.

"Yeah, me too," Buffy answered. "Listen, thanks for this. Really."

"No problem. Remember what I said about looking me up when you get back," she said, blue eyes earnest. "We could hang out and you could tell me all about your adventures."

"I have a feeling the adventures will be sadly lacking where I'm headed," Buffy said, shoulders slumping. She gave Amelia one last little wave and headed out into the still balmy air with her bags of stuff.

It was still too early to go to the graveyard. It would need to be dark before she could get to working some dimensional mojo. She really didn't need to go back to her apartment, there wasn't anything there she needed. Plus the sun was about to set and she didn't want to run into Rasul. It was already way harder to leave than she'd thought it would be, she didn't want to make it harder on herself. Instead she went to a diner - her stomach, back to feeling like its old self, was making its demands known in the form of embarrassingly loud growls.

After eating a giant turkey burger with a mound of fries and a piece of apple pie (and also getting a weird look from the waitress when one of the bags she had shifted and a chicken foot poked out), she was ready to attempt her journey home. Hopefully she'd make it there with all her pieces attached…

The last bit of light had leaked from the sky while she ate, cooling the air to something a little more bearable. Hoping that since it was a weekday there'd be a lack of tourists in the cemetery, Buffy went ahead over there. She was right, there were only a few stragglers left. She patiently waited them out, her traitorous mind taking the opportunity to have second thoughts (and third, fourth, and fifth thoughts) about going through with this. She finally had to put her mental foot down and tell herself to quit being stupid. It wasn't like she could just stay forever. People would start wondering where she went. Willow, who Buffy doubted dimensional barriers were any match for, would eventually come looking. And what about Dawn? Just because they weren't as close as they'd once been didn't mean she could just run off and leave her. What if she got in trouble? Or her and that boyfriend of hers broke up? Or got married? Buffy needed to be there.

Determined, but not very happy about it, Buffy set off toward the crypt where she'd arrived, thinking it might be some kind of thin spot and make things easier. If not, well, it was as good a place as any. She wondered again what might've happened to the Marie Laveau from her own world. What happened when you tried to steal power from your dead other self in a different dimension? Probably nothing good…

She spent the next twenty minutes carefully setting up the odds and ends according to Amelia's directions. Painted symbols here, flowery things there, chicken feet here _and_ there. So intent on her task of mixing the last of the ingredients (including her watch to give the portal a direction) in a brass bowl, Buffy never noticed the person approaching until they were right behind her.

"That rune is backwards. And the sacred bowl isn't supposed to be touching the ground. See, that could've made your head explode or something,"

Whipping around, Buffy was surprised to see a smug looking Amelia giving her a scolding head shake.

"Amelia! What- I thought you couldn't be involved?"

"I decided if it came out that I gave you the stuff and the instructions, I'd get in just as much trouble as if I'd been here in person," she said with a shrug. "So here I am. Plus, if I'm here to help, it'll be more likely to go right, reducing the chance of anyone finding out."

"That's some shady logic…"

"The best kind," she answered with a grin while she bent down to fix the rune Buffy had done backwards.

"How'd you find me anyway?"

"Did a spell using the money you paid me. Since you'd had it on you, I could use it to track your essence."

"How stalkerish of you," Buffy said with a teasing grin. She was actually glad to have Amelia there, and not only because she would've apparently magically popped her head off with her screw-up.

"I actually _did _use that spell once to find a hot guy that had come into the shop before. 'Accidentally' running into him on the street and claiming it was fate," she said with a wicked grin.

Amelia fixed the symbol and moved on to the bowl. "Hmm, we need something to sit this on… It's not supposed to sit on the ground like that. And definitely not if you want this spell to work."

They both looked around thoughtfully, but nothing jumped out that could be used as a stand for the bowl.

"Oh! I know," Buffy said, running over and digging in her purse. With a sound of triumph she yanked out the one nippled statue. She jogged back over to Amelia and jammed it in the ground head first so that the flat base was in the air and setting the bowl on it.

"Hey, that's perfect! I guess that thing wasn't useless after all," Amelia said, eyeing Buffy's handiwork. After a beat she added, "You know, neither of us are probably ever going to have kids after using that statue like that…"

"I was just thinking the same thing," Buffy said as she stared at the ass end of the fertility goddess poking into the air. "Oh, well. Never really liked kids much anyway."

"Yeah, me either," Amelia agreed, going over to the pile of notes and pulling out the part that was supposed to be said out loud. She gave Buffy a serious look as she stopped next to her again. "Just so you know, if this doesn't work and you die, I'm going to turn your body into something small and bury it."

"Thanks for sharing that, Amelia."

"Just wanted to be honest," she said with a shrug, straightening the pages. "Okay, when I get to this part," she pointed at a group of words. "The gate should start to open. But don't go until I get to here," she pointed at the last of it.

Buffy nodded, adrenaline pumping through her now that the time had come to actually go through with it. Amelia started the ritual, her voice pitched to a tone of power that Buffy was sure she couldn't have achieved. The air started to thicken, something gathering that wasn't seen but was definitely felt. Amelia's voice grew louder, more commanding, and the feeling multiplied - a shimmer forming in the air in the middle of the ingredients and painted symbols. Then, with a snap, it took form, like a wall of pink water before them. Buffy's muscles tensed and she would've went then if Amelia hadn't clamped down on her arm - shaking her head 'no' while never breaking the chant. Realizing she'd almost let the anticipation get the best of her, driving her to jump to early, she nodded and waited for the words Amelia had pointed out. The ones that would mean the portal was stable and connected and that it was time for Buffy to go.

Another wave of uncertainty rolled over her, but it was too late to reconsider. Amelia reached the end and waved a frantic hand at Buffy, who took off toward the portal.


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter Fourteen**

Eric sat in his office, leaning back in his chair and scowling at the ceiling. The sounds of music and laughter trickled back but he tuned them out. Pam had "suggested" that he might be better off back here than out in the bar. "The breathers come here for a thrill, not to think they might actually have their limbs ripped off and be beaten with them at any moment," she'd said. So basically his second had banned him from the floor until he could get over this… whatever it was.

Two months.

It had been two months since the night at Threadgill's party. That was the last time he'd seen Buffy (which Pam insisted _couldn't_ be her real name). He'd watched her go and not twenty seconds after he lost sight of the tail lights the vampires started swarming. Eric claimed he'd just gotten there first, finding only Victor unconscious and nothing else. No one doubted him. No, they were all focused on the more important questions - what had happened out there and who had such delightful smelling blood. Victor had remained silent about the whole affair, even when Threadgill, nearly apoplectic with rage, demanded he tell him what was going on and asked what reason he could possibly have for _daring_ to interrupt his party. Victor hadn't uttered one word of explanation.

Eric wasn't sure whether to be grateful or worried.

On one hand, it kept scores of vampires from searching for her. But on the other, it just meant that Victor wasn't planning on sharing - whatever plans he had in store for Buffy were for him and him alone. And they had to be particularly nasty if he was willing to piss off Felipe de Castro by straining Nevada's ties with Arkansas to keep them secret. He was invested.

At first, Eric hadn't been concerned. He figured he'd just track her down first and not have to worry about whatever Victor was up to. Now that two months had passed without so much as a hint to her whereabouts, he wasn't quite so confident. Rammerstein's search for the Queen on Buffy had turned up nothing, Pam had told him. He'd even put out feelers in Nevada, worried that Victor might've actually one upped him and had her stashed somewhere. But that didn't seem the case. Otherwise, he'd kept his search for her as quiet as he could, not wanting it to catch anyone's curiosity. But he'd kept his ear to the ground, listening through his many contacts for any mention of a strange blond human causing some kind of chaos. Nothing at all had come of it. In fact, things had been fairly quiet all around on the vampire front between then and now. Well, until very recently…

Pam came striding into the office, pulling him from his thoughts and letting him know it must've been closing time. Now that he was paying attention, he could hear that the sounds out in the bar had drifted down to a low murmur - employees cleaning up before going home. Pam slid into the chair across from him with a light rasp of gauzy material, reminding him of the sound Buffy's dress made as she fought with Victor, barely hindered by the voluminous fabric. He scowled at the ceiling again.

"Still moping I see?"

He didn't even bother to answer that with anything more than a withering glance. He wasn't moping. He _wasn't_. He was just thinking, rehashing, plotting. Thousand year old vampires didn't mope like angsty school boys - he was more… sulking? No, no, not sulking, that was just as bad. Brooding? No, brooding meant he'd accepted defeat. Besides, that was something wastes of space who wanted to look dangerous and mysterious did. He was _already _dangerous and mysterious, so-

"You have the most peculiar look on your face," Pam said, head cocked and watching him curiously.

He gave a grunt. What _was_ he doing? He'd met other blonds that had caught his interest before. As Pam had pointed out, it usually ended badly, much worse than this one had, but it was always in good fun. Sure he'd really liked that Alpha Romeo he'd lost over the side of that one cliff because of Sophia, but the chase had been fantastic, well worth the loss. And that stake _had_ come a little close to comfort when Francesca's husband had come upon them, but the excitement of fucking the wife of one of the top vampire hunters had been a thrill he couldn't resist. But he'd been able to leave them behind without a second thought. He didn't spend month's… doing whatever he was doing. Was it because those had ended on his terms? Fascinations that had run their course and left him ready for something new? Or was Buffy just something different? He didn't even need to think on it, he _knew_ she was something different. What he didn't understand was what the allure was beyond her strength, skill and potential usefulness. Certainly she was beautiful, but so were many others.

_But no others make bizarre gnome puns, kick Madden through windows, or punch you to keep you safe. No one else leaves you reeling with all their personality contradictions - fighting like a vengeful goddess, then crying over one lost life; focused on her mission, yet getting lost in hallways; ready to kill a vampire without a second thought, yet not wanting other vampires to be persecuted_, his thoughts whispered. None of them disappeared of the face of the planet without a trace either…

He shook his head and sat upright in his chair. He was being ridiculous - it was simply because she'd be infinitely useful, and that he hadn't gotten her under his possession before she disappeared, that he was so disappointed. That was it. Settling his attention on Pam, who was still watching him with a raised brow, he moved on to more pressing matters.

"We need to do something about Bill."

Pam gave a little snarl, "He has made things quite difficult, hasn't he?"

They both took a moment to think dark thoughts about Bill before Eric went on.

"I don't know when he was supposed to report to the queen, so we need to get this taken care of as soon as possible."

"We could kidnap one of Edgington's people," Pam suggested. "Force them to tell us where he is. Maybe trade them for him."

"Let's save that as a last resort. I'd rather not risk starting a war," he said, not adding that a war would take up too much of his time. Time he could spend looking for Buffy.

"If we can track down his work, it might be enough to satisfy Sophie-Anne. Perhaps Sookie could tell us where it is," Pam said, looking thoughtful.

"Maybe…" Eric responded slowly, wheels turning.

"We should tell her about Lorena. About the arrangements he was making for her care," Pam said, sounding vindictive. It was clear that she didn't think much of Bill or his treatment of the telepath. "She may know what he's been working on. If we tell her about Lorena, she might be angry enough to hand it over."

"I'd rather not if it can be avoided," Eric said. She'd be upset… There would be crying… His mouth pulled downward at the thought. Plus - "She might not go look for him if we tell her. If she doesn't know where the work is, that would leave us empty handed."

Pam reluctantly nodded, but he wasn't sure she'd be able to hold her tongue when the time came.

"A lot depends on this, remember that," he half warned, half threatened. "If things go badly and we aren't able to produce either Bill _or_ his work, there will be severe consequences for us."

He knew she liked Sookie, he liked her as well, but if he had to threaten her or scare her to save their own hides, he would do it.

"There's still the question of Lorena and her part in this," Pam reminded him.

Eric sighed, he wasn't looking forward to dealing with Lorena. She was half crazed and unpredictable. She had a habit of acting first and thinking later, if at all, which could very well end up with him having to kill her. He'd just paid off Long Shadow's maker, he didn't want to have another fine already…

What he needed was a way to get that imbecile Bill back without Sookie getting too damaged and without starting a war. Hmm, yes, might as well ask for a pot of gold and for Buffy to miraculously appear as well, while he was at it.

Wait a second…

"I think I have a plan…" He said, a slow smile spreading over his face.

"Why do I have a feeling this isn't going to go well?" Pam said, settling back in her chair warily.

"We'll send Sookie to Mississippi to look for Bill, the Herveaux Were that owes us for his father's debts can go with her. She'll feel badly about his situation and be more open to working with him. He'll be drawn to her 'charms' and also be more willing to keeping her safe and getting the job done. At the same time, we'll let on to the queen that something is wrong in Mississippi - that Edgington may be up to something. She may very well send in Buffy, who might find Bill if Sookie fails. Kill two birds with one stone, as they say."

Pam snorted, mouthing "Buffy" before shaking her head and getting serious. "You're playing a very dangerous game. If the queen finds out we've lost Bill after he's been working on that special project for her, she'll be… less than pleased."

They both took a moment to shudder at the thought of an angry Sophie-Anne. It was well known that her punishments were very _creative_.

"She'll be receptive to any suspicions laid out against Edgington, as long as we're careful about how she hears of it," he said. "She hasn't liked him since he came on to Andre last century."

Pam made a disgusted face. "Who would want that little troll is beyond me."

Eric shrugged. He'd have to agree. He could see nothing at all attractive about short, expressionless Andre, the Queen's pale shadow.

Pam stood from her seat, smoothing out her dress with a fluid sweep of her hands, and headed for the door. "I'll find some contacts that may be useful in spreading suspicions of Edgington's behavior," she said, reaching for the door handle. Then she paused turning back to him with a raised eyebrow. "I almost forgot, there was an interesting e-mail from Victor Madden a little while ago. Something about how he wasn't in need of any new windows or flying lessons, and while he was flattered to know you were thinking of him, he'd appreciate it if you stopped sending him random ads for services he didn't require."

Eric couldn't stop the boyish grin that spread over his face as he shrugged. "I have to get my fun where ever I can find it."

"Fun? I'd liken it more to throwing flaming pinecones at an insane bear from a short tree," Pam said dryly, but there was a familiar tilt to her mouth that told him she found it almost as amusing as he did. She'd laughed long and hard when Eric had told her of Victor's meeting with the window via Buffy's high-heeled foot.

Pam left with a shake of her head, leaving him alone once again. He no longer felt like scowling at the ceiling though. He had a plan of action, one that involved shaking quite a few trees to see what fell out. It was bound to get interesting…

* * *

><p>Buffy stood in front of the unmarked door in the dark New Orleans alley. He feet shuffled slightly as she squinted at the piece of paper in her hand, sure that she must have gotten turned around somewhere. The rattle of a can rolling, pushed by a gust of wind, echoed around her while a lone piece of paper caught and flapped against her leg.<p>

"Creeeepppppy," she said in a low sing-song, kicking the paper free.

At all three of the places she'd stopped, they'd said _this_ was the place to get the ingredients she was looking for. The _only_ place. They'd all given her the same directions that she swore she'd followed correctly. But this looked more like a place to buy crack than magic supplies. She suddenly and intensely missed Amelia and the clean, well lit magic shop in what she'd come to think of as Alter Orleans. She'd gotten everything she needed there. Here, in her home dimension, she'd been all over the place looking for the same ingredients.

Ingredients she wasn't even sure she'd use. Wasn't even sure would _work_

Amelia's portal had worked like a charm. She'd jumped through and found herself in a blackened circle, either from her own journey or from Marie Laveau's attempt to steal from her other self. No crypt. No Amelia. No blasphemously upside down buried fertility statue.

She'd made it home.

That was two months ago. Now she was ready to go back.

At first, although missing the other side, Buffy had accepted that she didn't belong there. She'd called Dawn, they'd chatted for a while and her sister even invited her to come visit. A first since things with Gino had gotten serious. Delighted to be spending some quality time with her sister, she'd hopped a flight to Rome, looking forward to having some fun bonding and letting her time on the other side fade into a happy memory instead of a melancholy ache.

That had worked for all of three days. Turned out Dawn had only invited her because Gino was out of town. They ran around the city for a few days and really did do the sisterly bonding thing, but Dawn's focus immediately shifted back to her boyfriend as soon as he was back. Leaving Buffy feeling like a third wheel while the two spoke in lovey-dovey Italian and made out like their lives depended on it.

After a few days of that awkwardness, she'd said her goodbyes and headed to Scotland. That had been almost worse than watching her sister and some Italian dude make out all the time. At first, just like her visit with Dawn, things had been great. Xander had been thrilled to see her, as had Giles. They'd had dinner together and had a wonderful time. Until they started reminiscing about old times, which had turned the evening bittersweet. As she laid in bed that night, she wondered if maybe that wasn't the reason the Scooby Gang had scattered the way they had. Too much had happened. As much as they loved each other, they all carried heavy memories attached to each of them as well. Every time they laid eyes on each other, they might remember the good, but they also remembered the bad.

Giles had caught a flight out the next day, claiming he had to help with Andrew's Slayer cell in India. She'd hung out with Xander at Slayer central that day, and never had it been more apparent how out of place she was now. Gone were the days of goofy Xander and tables of research books in a dusty library. Now Xander, who'd taken to dressing in black military type clothing, barked orders to organized groups of Slayers all over the world. High tech magically enhanced equipment monitored the evil goings on everywhere on a huge map. Girls manning dozens of computers researched things for groups everywhere, wearing headsets and taking hundreds of calls from girls hunting big bads all over.

Most of the new Slayers hadn't even known who she was. Which at first bothered her, until she ran into a few that actually _did_ know of her. They stared at her like she was some kind of myth. And that's how she felt. Old and obsolete. A myth living outside her time.

She'd left the next day.

She'd tried getting in touch with Willow, but hadn't been able to. She'd only been able to get an answer once and it had been a snippy Kennedy telling her they were busy and hanging up before she could get a word out.

So things had fallen back into her old boring routine. Traveling around from place to place, chasing the few little evil things she came across and avoiding places like L.A. and Cleveland where she might have to face people she knew - that would just make the loneliness all the more pronounced.

Then, last week, she'd found herself back in New Orleans.

It almost felt like going home. Only not. And she felt worse. She'd stayed even though there was nothing there to hunt. Looking at places that were familiar but not. Not wanting to leave even though it was almost torture to stay. Three days ago she'd started writing out the pages Amelia had made for her, trying to piece them together by memory. Night and day she'd worked on it, not wanting to admit what she was thinking of doing, just focusing all her time and energy on trying to replicate it. When she'd finished she'd went looking for the items she'd need, only to find it was easier said than done. She wasn't sure if she'd just gotten super lucky with Amelia and the Genuine Magic Shop or if these things were rarer in her dimension, but the answer everywhere had been the same. "Nope, don't have them, can't get them, but I know where you can. Go see Priestess Miriam."

And that was how she'd ended up here, in this alley at one in the morning.

Squaring her shoulders she gripped the metal door and pulled. More because she didn't want to think about what she was doing (or what she was _thinking_ about doing) anymore than because of any burst of decisiveness. Inside the air was cool and musty smelling, reminding her unpleasantly of the snake house at the zoo. It was just as quiet too. Shelves of jars and dried things she didn't want to look too closely at were everywhere and she picked her way through them slowly, keeping her arms tucked to her sides carefully. After edging her way through three rows she finally came to a counter where someone was sitting. A girl about seventeen was perched on a stool, flipping idly through a magazine with her chin propped on her hand.

Buffy gave a little cough, but the girl continued to ignore her.

"Um, I was told to come here, that the woman that owns this place could help me find some stuff I was looking for," she finally said, almost cringing at the loudness of her voice in the place even though she barely spoke over a whisper.

"The old woman's out. You can look 'round, see if you can find what ya' need. Or ya' can wait," the girl behind the counter said, her braided head staying bent over the magazine, not even glancing up at Buffy.

Buffy looked around at the rows and rows of shelving, some of the slimier things making her grimace.

"Uh… okay…" She muttered, wandering closer to the nearest shelf uneasily. She could either just stand around and wait or she could at least try and find _some_ of the stuff on her list. The less time she had to be in there the better, the place was giving her the major wiggins.

She'd been there about ten minutes and only found the chicken feet so far, when she came around a corner and came face to face with another person. A person that blinked back at her looking equally surprised to see her. A very familiar person.

"Willow?"

"Buffy?"

They both blurted at the same time.

"What are you doing here?" They again jinxed each other, causing them to break out in matching grins.

"I didn't even know you were back in the States," Buffy said. "I thought you were still in South America."

"I am. Well, I mean, obviously not right now. But mostly I am. I just came up to visit this shop. She carries a lot of stuff that's really hard to find," Willow said, her voice shifting from an upbeat babble to a more something more curious and shrewd. "But obviously you already know that… Why do you have chicken feet?"

Buffy clutched the jar she'd forgotten she was carrying a little closer to her chest and shifted her eyes away guiltily, "Uh, just, you know, something I'm working on."

"Something magic-y? And you didn't call me? I thought I was your go-to magic girl?" Willow said, pouting a little.

"You would be if I could ever get ahold of you," Buffy found herself snapping before she could rein in the urge. "I've tried calling you for months."

Willow turned a little red and her gaze dropped. "Oh. Well, okay. That makes sense I guess," she said quietly, then looked back up, her gaze filled with the earnestness that she'd had since Buffy'd known her. "I've been doing a lot of astral travel. Not really reachable out there. And me and Kennedy have been traveling around the country a lot. I'm really sorry for not being in touch more, but I'm here now, and I'm all yours!"

Guilt hit Buffy like a sledge hammer as Willow stared at her, puppy dog eyes out in full force and combining with resolve face for a lethal combo. "No, listen Will, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that. You're out there doing your thing, living your life. I'm not, like, the Willow Parole Officer or anything, you don't have to check in with me."

"No, I should've called you. I just caught up in things, you know. It's been a long time since I've really felt free and-" Willow said, then flushed, looking horribly guilty. "That came out wrong. I just meant that with the Hellmouth being gone and with us not being responsible for stopping every apocalypse, it's been kinda nice just, you know, living, exploring, having fun."

Buffy nodded and forced an understanding smile on her face even though it felt like she just got sucker punched. Free… It made her feel like crap mostly because Willow had felt trapped in the first place - trapped as Buffy's friend, trapped with Buffy's destiny. But it also made her feel horrible that it made her feel like crap at all. She shouldn't. She should be happy for Willow, out there doing her own Willow-y thing for the first time since Buffy'd come into her life. She shouldn't be selfishly upset that her best friend was enjoying herself now that she'd gotten away from her.

"I'm happy for you," Buffy said, forcing all the genuine feeling she could into her words. It seemed to work, because Willow looked relieved.

"Let's go grab a coffee, catch up. Then we can come back, see if Priestess Miriam is here yet."

"Yeah, okay," Buffy said, wondering if she was just a glutton for punishment as she sat the chicken feet down and followed after Willow.

Later, seated in a little 24 hour diner across from her old friend, she felt a little better. Though, to be honest, it was hard not to, what with going from creepy and dark and being surrounded by dried and slimy things to clean(ish) and bright with the smell of greasy, fattening food and coffee. They chatted idly for a few minutes as the waitress got their coffee and took their orders. After the bitter brew was steaming away in front of them, Willow started telling her about all the amazing things her and Kennedy had seen in South America and all the new magic she'd learned. She asked about Dawn and if Buffy'd talked to Xander and how he was. If she'd heard that Giles had actually of approved Andrew running his own cell. They were well into their random late night/early morning meal when the topic finally turned to Buffy.

"I know it's been a little while but…" Willow said after a short stretch of silence had settled between them. "You seem kinda distant. What's really going on with you? I thought you were out of all this, why are you in a magic shop in the middle of the night?"

Buffy kept her eyes on her plate, picking at her mac and cheese, while she thought about what to say. She was tired… tired of all of this. She didn't want to lie and pretend anymore, she didn't want to be alone, but she didn't want pity either.

"I'm not 'out'," she finally said, still not looking up. "I've never been 'out'. After the things I've done. The things I've seen. I could never be 'out'. It's just not in me anymore to settle down in some town in an apartment, to get a regular job, to go out to see a movie with some regular guy on a Saturday night. It's just- I'm not- that's not me anymore. And I don't even want it to be."

"Buffy-"

"I've just been kinda wandering around," she went on, popping a bite in her mouth and half chewing it in a bid for nonchalance. "Taking out stray evil where I can find it. Which isn't really that often. Xander's really on the ball."

Her attempt at levity fell flat and she popped another bite in her mouth to fill the awkward silence. Deciding to go with her mom's old saying "in for a penny, in for a pound", she figured she might as well just put it out there. Maybe talking about it would make her feel better. Or maybe Willow could talk some sense into her.

"A few months ago I was here, chasing this voodoo chick. Long story short, I ended up in another dimension," she said, continuing quickly when she hear Willow's sharp inhalation. She wasn't ready to be interrupted yet. "Place was ridiculous," she said, giving a little huff of laughter. "But, it was fun. And I felt alive. I hadn't even realized it until I came back. How empty I'd felt here. Then I got all filled up and then was empty again… I guess I'm not making much sense."

Realizing she sounded like an idiot (a whiny idiot at that), she shut up. When Willow didn't immediately launch into the "you have people that love you!" and "your life's not empty, Buffy!" speech, Buffy risked looking up at her friend. Instead of seeing horror or pity, like she'd been ready for, she just saw sadness on her friends face. Sadness and resolve.

"You're trying to go back," Willow said - a statement, not a question.

Buffy gave a shrug. "I was thinking about it. It was stupid…"

"It's not stupid," Willow said, her voice soft. She reached across the table and laid her hand on Buffy's.

The understanding gaze that met her own when she looked up made her eyes burn suddenly. She shook her head, the hot lump in her throat threatening to choke her.

"I don't belong there. Just because I don't feel like I belong here anymore either doesn't mean I can just run off and hang out in some other dimension. There's probably rules about that kind of thing. Balance and all that. I'm just pathetic and running away…"

"Looking for happiness isn't running away, Buffy. It's what we're all doing. I was lucky enough to have Kennedy practically fall in my lap. I don't think it's fair, after all you've done, that you have to go so far to find it. But if anybody deserves it, it's you."

Buffy blinked at her, unable to comprehend what she was hearing. "Are you actually saying you think it's okay for me to just run off to some other dimension? Because I feel lonely or useless or whatever here? That can't possibly be a good enough reason."

At the look on her friends face when she used the words "lonely" and "useless" Buffy wished she could suck them back in, but the damage was done.

"I'm saying if there's anybody in the world that shouldn't be lonely or _ever_ feel useless, it's you," she said, leaning forward, her eyes seeming to glow a little with her intensity. "I'm finding my place in the world, a place that makes me feel whole and happy. Dawn's finding hers. Xander's… well, Xander I think is just going more with finding peace than happiness right now, but he's found it where he is, in a backwards kind of way - he's found a place where he feels needed, where he can do things that make him feel like a little bit of the wrongs that have been done can be righted. It sucks that we couldn't find all that with each other, but… you have to go where it takes you, I guess, wherever you can find it. Now I'm the one not making any sense…"

Buffy shook her head, one lone tear coming loose to splash down on the formica tabletop. Relief had come over her so swiftly that she sagged in her chair. To hear that it was okay, from one of the few people that mattered to her… It was like a huge weight had been lifted.

But there was still Dennis…

"Someone died because of me the last time I was there," she said, one hand clenching around her fork. "If I hadn't been there-"

"Don't do that," Willow said sharply. "You don't know _what_ would've happened if you hadn't been there. I'll tell you what I _do_ know. I know that more good follows you than bad."

Buffy shot her a watery, disbelieving look.

"I'm serious, Buffy," she said, her mouth locked in a stern little frown. "Think of all the lives you saved. All the lives you've just made _better_ by _being _there. Me, Xander, Angel, Spike, Giles, Dawn - the list goes on and on. Heck, most of us probably wouldn't be alive if it weren't for you. No matter where you go, this dimension or any other, don't ever think your presence is a bad thing."

"But he died-"

"Maybe he would've died anyway. Maybe his death served some bigger purpose. Maybe it set off a chain of events you can't even conceive of yet. Do you know how many times I've thought the same thing about Tara? That she's dead because of me? Because she met me? But look at what happened because of that. If she hadn't died, I wouldn't have gone all crazed and vein-y, but I also wouldn't have ever gone to England to learn how to get in touch with the earth and myself. If I hadn't done that, I would've never been able to work the spell on the Scythe to make all the Slayers. Then what would've happened? Tara, me, and everyone else would've died. There's always a bigger picture, Buffy. You can't drive yourself crazy wondering what it is or what would've happened if you'd done this or that differently. You just have to do the best that you can."

Buffy sat staring at her old friend, eyes wide and mouth slightly open.

"When did you start giving such inspirational speeches? And when did you get so assertive?"

"Well, the speeches thing came from you, I think," she said, with a smile. "The bossy thing's probably from Kennedy."

The lump in her throat receded while she shared a laugh with Willow. Replacing it was a warm feeling of relief and excitement.

She was going back.


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter Fifteen**

Buffy's hotel room was small and plain. Cheap and clean. The bed Buffy was sitting on, legs curled under her, was a little lumpy, but it wasn't too bad. Willow sat across the room - not that that was far away at all, more like four feet - in the room's one chair, reading the pages Buffy had written from memory by the light of the lamp. After a few minutes of page flipping, she turned wide eyes on her friend.

"Buffy! This wouldn't work at all! You might've even blown some stuff up…"

"Oh… maybe I wrote it down wrong…" Buffy said, shoulders slumping.

"It'd have to be really, _really_ wrong. But I don't think it is," she hurried to add at Buffy's disgruntled look. "It's just so way off, I'm thinking it's probably a dimensional thing. Spells that work here, won't necessarily work the same over there and vice versa."

"Oh yeah, Amelia did say something about that," Buffy said, nodding. "Wait, does this mean I can't get back?"

Disappointment rolled over her much more strongly than she was prepared for. She'd gotten her hopes up, never a good thing…

"No, no, not at all," Willow rushed to assure her. "I can open a portal for you. But, I'd like to try something different if that's okay with you?"

Buffy's eyes narrowed warily. "No offense Will, but sometimes your spell experimenting doesn't go all that great…"

"I haven't messed up a spell in a long time," Willow said giving a hurt little pout, which flipped to earnest excitement a second later. "I learned how to make a kind of permanent portal while I was in Belize! A link between worlds that can be open and closed at will. Then you can come and go as you want!"

"Seriously?" Buffy asked, getting excited all over again. "I can just go there and come back whenever?"

"Well, not 'whenever'. It's still a portal, so it's dangerous to use it too much. And it's still going to give you that not so fun dimension hopping headache I'm sure you're familiar with."

Buffy nodded. She'd felt pretty crappy when she'd landed back in her home dimension, but it hadn't lasted very long. It actually hadn't been much worse than her hangover earlier in the day.

"But it'll make things a lot easier," Willow went on. "You won't have to set up spell ingredients or do any chanting or anything like that when you want to come back. And, no offense, but since you're not really magically inclined, I think this would be safer."

Buffy wasn't going to argue with that one. If it hadn't been for Amelia and Willow stepping in each of these time, she probably would've blown herself up by now.

"Great! So what do we have to do to make this portal-in-a-pocket thingy?" Buffy said, sliding her legs out from under her to rest on the ground and leaning forward eagerly. This was the perfect solution! She could hang out in the other dimension and pop back over here every once in a while, check on Dawn, make sure every one was okay, check in so no one worried.

Willow, catching the excitement, leaned forward too. "We're going to make you a talisman. We'll take an item from this world and an item from that world and-"

"Uh-oh…"

Buffy deflated fast. She hadn't even _thought_ of that part. Even if Amelia's spell could've worked here, it still wouldn't have because Buffy didn't have anything from there.

"I don't have anything," she said morosely. "I had the clothes I was wearing but they got torn up and stained fighting a den of Thr'klr demons. And I had some cash, but I spent it."

"Buffy, the economic balance is very delicate. You can't just-"

"Chill Will, it was like thirty bucks. I don't think that'll topple the economy," Buffy said, grinning a little at Willow's responsible outrage.

"Oh, well, anyway, without an item from there, I can't direct the other end of the portal, it won't know where to go… Are you sure there's nothing else? It doesn't have to be big, it can be a hair or-"

"The nipple!"

Buffy jumped up, snatched her purse from the bedside table and dumped its contents out on the bed.

"Nipple? You have a nipple in your purse from another dimension?" Willow squeaked.

"Uh huh," she said, still digging. Where was that thing… Her old purse had gotten a big blood stain on it so she'd had to throw it out, but she hadn't gone through its contents, just dumped them from one bag to the other.

"Um, I think I'm changing my mind about this being a good thing," Willow was saying nervously. "I mean, if this is the kind of place where people collect nipples, then-"

"Ah ha!" Buffy shouted, grabbing the tiny brown wooden nub from where it was laying next to some lip gloss.

"Ew, ew, ew," Willow said backing away as Buffy came toward her with the object. "I don't want- Hey, it's wood…"

"Duh," Buffy said with a grin and an eye roll. She was feeling optimistic again now that she'd found the nipple. She went on to explain about the fertility statue, after which Willow also had to point out that she was probably never going to have kids for defiling such an item.

Morning had come and gone by then and Willow left, back to the creepy alley magic shop to find the items she'd originally come to New Orleans for and to get whatever else she needed to send Buffy off. Buffy used the time to gather up her stuff and call Dawn. Her sister had been suspicious when she'd first told her she'd be traveling around and might not call for a while. But when Buffy started stammering when Dawn asked if a guy was involved, Dawn just gave a little squeal and told her not to worry about it, to go off and have fun. Buffy felt a little guilty when she hung up, she hadn't _lied_ but she hadn't exactly told her sister her traveling would be in a different dimension. She had a feeling Dawn might not have been so gung-ho had she shared that little piece of info.

She didn't bother calling Xander or Giles. They wouldn't be expecting to hear from her this soon anyway. Calling now would be like a red flag to them that something was going on. Plus she didn't talk to them nearly as often as she talked to Dawn, so she wasn't too worried about them freaking if they didn't hear from her for a while. If this portal thing worked, she could just pop back over in a month or two, check on everybody and no one would be the wiser.

Buffy was all packed up when Willow got back that afternoon, looking tired but pleased. It hit Buffy then that Will hadn't gotten any sleep last night. She'd stayed up to talk to Buffy and help her with this. Where Buffy was used to sleepless nights, she was sure Willow wasn't. At least not these days. She probably spent her nights curled up with Kennedy, sleeping in late. She felt a wash of affection for her old friend, followed by sadness that things couldn't be the way they'd been before.

"All done!" Willow said, waving a little box in the air as she closed the door behind her.

Stopping in front of Buffy, she lifted the top to show a fat silver ring with the little wooden nipple set into the center. Picking it up gingerly, she could see runes etched on both on the inside and outside of the band. It smelled of faintly of lavender and something spicy.

"It's a nipple ring. Get it, nipple ring," Willow giggled.

Buffy snorted. "When you get back to Kennedy, please don't tell her you were helping me with a nipple ring. I'll have her after my head."

Willow's eyes went a little wide, "Good idea…"

"So, what do I do with this? Just put it on and tap my heels three times?"

"Not quite, but it's almost as easy. Just spin it twice - clockwise for this dimension, counter for the other, and picture the place you want to arrive at clearly in your head. It has to be somewhere you've been before, that you can see a picture of in your mind as it was seen with your own eyes. And obviously you want it to be somewhere pretty unpopulated. You wouldn't want to pop up in the middle of a busy sidewalk."

"That's it?" Buffy asked, completely surprised it was so simple.

"That's it. But remember what I told you - dimensional travel is tough on the body, so don't use it too much. No hopping back and forth every week. Or even every other week. Your Slayer healing power might help or it might just mask whatever damage is being done. So don't take any risks, okay? Use it in moderation and you should be fine."

Buffy gave a nod of understanding and slipped the ring on. It was a perfect fit. She gave a wide grin to Willow and then in a moment of elation and gratefulness, hugged her tightly.

"Thanks, Will. Thank you so much," she whispered.

Willow hugged her back just as tightly. "I want you to be happy, Buffy. Promise me you'll be happy."

"I'm working on it," she said, pulling back and smiling at her friend again.

"So, wanna give it a try?" Willow asked, gesturing at the ring.

"Uh, okay, sure," Buffy said, suddenly a little nervous now that the time had arrived for her to go back. "Where should we go?"

"Right here is fine," Willow said with a wave at the hotel room. "The portal's pretty small, and at least this is private."

"Oh, I haven't checked out yet," Buffy waffled, nerves growing by the second.

"I'll take care of it," Willow said with a tiny quirk of her lips, well aware that Buffy was stalling.

Sucking up her resolve, Buffy straightened her shoulders and took a deep breath, gave Willow one last look and spun the ring counter-clockwise twice, picturing the graveyard where Alter Marie Laveau's tomb was. She'd expected to do it wrong, for it to take a few tries to get it right, but the portal popped up in the space in front of the bed immediately.

"Holy crap," Buffy squeaked, completely unprepared.

"The portal will only stay active for sixty seconds," Willow said, speaking a little louder since the glowing pink pool gave off a slightly high pitched whine.

Buffy gave a little nod, eyes still locked on the portal, her way back.

A hand on her shoulder shook her out of her daze. "Good luck, Buffy. Call me when you come back, okay?"

Buffy smiled and gave Willow a nod and another quick hug. Then she snatched her bag off the bed and stepped through the swirling pink light.

* * *

><p>Fiery air rushed into her lungs in a hot gasp. Orange, pink and purple swirled and rocked above her while her stomach cramped up. The pain and disorientation went as soon as it came though, leaving Buffy laying on the grass blinking up at a sky lit with the colors of sunset. Tipping her head to the side, she let out a sigh of relief at the sight of Marie Laveau's tomb. Seemed like Willow's portal ring worked just fine, even if it did pack a bit of a punch.<p>

With a slight grunt of effort, she pulled herself to her feet and grabbed her bag, feeling better but still a little shaky. That too was gone by the time she reached the exit to the cemetery. There she stopped, wondering where to go. She didn't have her key cards, so she couldn't go to her apartment - if it really was even still hers. Despite Sophie-Anne's claim that her job and apartment would be waiting on her if she wanted to come back, she found it hard to believe the queen would just let it sit, unoccupied, for an indefinite amount of time. Then again, what else did vampires have _but_ time?

Deciding that even if her apartment was waiting on her, it would be pointless to go there without her keys (she didn't want to get sliced and diced by whatever mysterious security measures they had set up after all), she turned down the sidewalk and headed toward Sophie-Anne's compound.

With every step she felt the tension drop out of her. Which was completely weird since she was virtually surrounded by vampires at every sunless moment in this dimension - her Slayer senses were already kicking into overdrive as the vamps woke with the setting of the sun. But it felt good, that tingle of awareness and adrenaline. Much better than the listlessness and boredom of before.

The human guards of the day had already been replaced by the night guards by the time Buffy reached the queen's walled estate. She noticed right off that Rasul wasn't there with a pang of disappointment, so she was anticipating an awkward explanation and trying to get them to believe that Sophie-Anne really would want to talk to her. Luckily it didn't come to that. One of the guards recognized her and let her right in, much to her relief.

It was quiet inside, but a note of tension was hanging in the air. Vampires that passed her eyed her distrustfully, bodies stiff and eyes watchful. She didn't have any problems though, not until she reached Sophie-Anne's office that is. There the two guards whose names she couldn't quite remember (she wanted to call them Bert and Ernie, but had a feeling that wasn't quite right) refused to let her in and then demanded to search her.

"Are you serious?" She asked, her aggravation climbing. "You've seen me here before. You know who I am."

"You have been gone for months," the one on the right said, his hand resting on his axe. "You may have been working for the enemy."

"What enemy?" She asked, totally confused.

"We must search your things," the other insisted.

"Fine. But your not going to like what you find in there."

She dropped the bag and took a step back, crossing her arms as they unzipped the top and started digging things out. What came out was a procession of knives, bras, stakes, underwear, two swords, some fashionable clothes, an axe (which they admired, but still glared at) and a pair of super cute boots. The stuff was scattered all around on the floor, one of the giants holding a bra, the other untangling a pair of undies from a mace, when Sophie-Anne opened the door.

She took in the scene with a slight eyebrow twitch, which she rubbed at with two fingers, eyes closed as if she were fighting for patience.

"Put her things away," she said, her voice low and tightly restrained as she looked at her guards. They did so quickly with slightly wide eyes. "Now give her bag back to her." They opened their mouths like they were going to argue, but she stopped their words by merely narrowing her eyes a fraction. They handed Buffy her bag back. "Now, I want you stand out here and not make another sound. Do you understand?" Once they nodded, she turned her attention to Buffy . "Please, come in."

Buffy watched the whole thing with both fascination and curiosity, wondering what the hell had been going on since she'd been gone. Sophie-Anne gracefully seated herself behind the desk while Buffy plopped down across from her, dropping her bag on the floor with a muted clang.

"So what's the what with the bizarro security check?" She asked with a head nod toward the door.

"Your reappearance is timely," the queen answered, her mouth curled down. "There have been numerous reports that Russell Edgington, whom you might remember is the king of Mississippi, is making some move against me. Unfortunately, all these are unsubstantiated rumors. We have no proof nor any exact idea of what he may be planning, if anything at all."

"Want me to find out what the sitch is?"

Excitement beat against Buffy's breastbone. After two months of pretty much zilch in the Slayage department, she was looking forward to some pulse pounding action again. Not that she was planning on just going out and beating the information out of somebody. Okay, so maybe she was.

Sophie-Anne shook her head slightly and blew out a little air, which Buffy thought might've been a laugh. "Rasul was right, you certainly are amusing. But yes, I would like you to go to Mississippi and see what you can find. That is if you are in fact back to refill your position…"

"I am. If I can," she added hurriedly. "I'd like my job back, if it's still open."

"It is."

"And my apartment…"

Sophie-Anne pulled open a drawer and after some sifting pulled out a stack of cards and a key in a plastic baggy.

"Also still yours," she said, handing it over. "I keep my word, Buffy."

"Thank you," Buffy answered, making sure to look the queen right in the eye so she knew she was genuinely thankful. After a brief flash of surprise, Sophie-Anne gave a tiny nod. "When did you want me to leave for Mississippi?"

"Tomorrow. The sooner we put a stop to this nonsense, the better. I'll have someone bring you all the information you'll need along with your IDs tomorrow morning."

"Sounds good," Buffy said, standing and scooping up her bag. "I'll let you know as soon as I find out anything."

Sophie-Anne gave another nod and turned her attention back to her papers, silently dismissing Buffy. Out in the hall, she had to rein in the desire to stick her tongue out at the burly bodyguards as she left. She managed to keep her tongue in check but couldn't stop the little smirk from slipping out. One of them gave a barely audible growl which prompted Sophie-Anne to snap "Sigebert!" from within the office. They both dropped their eyes and went still and silent after that.

Buffy slipped out the back gate and turned down the sidewalk, whistling a little tune as she went. The meeting with the queen had gone far more easily than she'd thought it would. No probing questions or anger over her sudden departure. Just acceptance. Probably because Sophie-Anne didn't care about where she'd been or what she'd been doing as long as she was useful to her now, but Buffy wasn't going to complain. Here she was, back for less than an hour and already she felt more alive than she had in the last two months at home. She had her place back, her job, and a new mission. Things were looking up.

Twenty minutes later she got off the elevator and walked past the paintings and flowers toward the familiar "H" labeled door. She paused with the key in the lock and looked over at "G", wondering if Rasul was in. There were too many vampires on the floor to pinpoint any one, but she could just knock… In the end she decided she'd shower and change first, then pay him a visit. Maybe take him out and buy him a bottle of blood to try and smooth things over. The fact that he might be mad at her sat heavily on her.

With one last glance at Rasul's door, she turned the key and pushed the door open, prepared to see her "mancave" that she'd never gotten around to redecorating. What she got was something else entirely. Staring wide eyed into the apartment, she stepped back to double check that she had the right one (which was stupid, she realized a split second later, because the key wouldn't have worked otherwise). Her next thought was that Goldilocks had been in her place, but instead of just sleeping in her bed, she'd redecorated.

She tried to scowl, angry about her own metaphor - if anyone was supposed to be Goldilocks, it was her, with the vamps as the bears. Except she wasn't sleeping in their beds. Well, sometimes she was. Moving on… She _tried_ to be irritated, but when faced with the elegant girliness, just couldn't find it in her. It was so _pretty_!

The furniture was still low slung and modern, but instead of black, it was white with big black and white puffy pillows all over. A large painting of a cherry blossom tree, done all in black, white and bright pink, took up the wall to the left and the huge windows were framed with light gauzy white curtains instead of the heavy black that had been there before.

Dropping her bag and moving further in with her mouth hanging open, she saw the kitchen was much the same, but the dining room had a sleek black table and chairs set with bright pink place mats and a vase of white daisies in the middle. Above it hung a little girly black and white sparkling chandelier. Moving back through the living room so she could see the bedroom she was stopped by the area rug. Black and white swirls danced across it, giving it energetic vibe. It was beautiful, but that wasn't what her attention was caught by. It was the little bright pink figures dancing through the pattern.

"Gnomes…"

"You kept talking about the damn things when we went out that last night you were here," a gruff voice said from behind her.

She spun to see Rasul standing by the front door which she'd forgotten to close. His hands stuffed in his pockets while he pointedly looked at anything but her.

"You did this?" She asked, completely blown away.

He gave a shrug. "I saw the rug, thought you'd like it. It just kind of grew from there. Thought maybe you might want to stick around a little longer the next time if you had a nicer place."

A lump formed in Buffy's throat, refusing to go down even after she swallowed heavily.

"That's not why I- I mean, when I-" She took a deep breath and finally just smiled at him. "It's amazing. But it's even better seeing you again."

He looked up, dark eyes locking on hers before he broke out in a small, fangy grin. "Glad you're back. Things were boring around here."

She laughed and with a few long strides was hugging him. He was still and stiff for a moment before he returned the hug. Her ribs creaked a little from the pressure, but she didn't complain.

"If you bite me, I'll kill you," she said, her voice hiccupping slightly.

"Just a little?"

"No."

Yep, it was good to be back.


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter Sixteen**

Buffy's breath came out in white puffs, quickly dissipating in front of her face as she watched the bar across the street. The alley she was in provided some protection from the biting wind, but she still wished she'd worn something warmer - her little black dress and strappy heels just weren't cutting it in the cozy department. There was nothing she could wish for more right then than a pair of jeans and an oversized sweatshirt.

She'd been watching the bar, a place called Josephine's and an area hang out for vamps according to the info she got, for almost half an hour now and was about ready to just walk right in and start beating some information out of people. She was _trying_ to play it cool, be careful and watchful and all that stuff. But, dammit, she was freezing! And so far she hadn't seen any humans go in without some kind of supernatural escort.

Buffy had wondered about the existence of other creatures besides vamps in this dimension and here was her answer. What some of the things going in and out of the bar were exactly, she wasn't sure, but she knew they didn't set of her radar like a vamp did - it was a different kind of ping. There was also something else going on with the place, some kind of magic-y mojo if she had to guess. She'd seen two regular people come up to Josephine's since she'd been standing there - both of them had stopped on the sidewalk in front of the door and looked around in fear before suddenly bolting. Or she supposed that could've been just good instincts instead of magic… But the cars that drove off by themselves after the people got out? Definitely something hinky there.

Just as she had decided to give up the recon and just go in, another big truck (what was it with people in the south and these giant trucks?) pulled up and Buffy was shocked to see Sookie standing there when it drove off. Sookie and a very large, very handsome man that was most definitely not Bill.

What the hell?

Why would Sookie, an employee of the Queen of Louisiana, be here in Russell Edgington's territory? Sophie-Anne couldn't know about this - she would've asked Buffy to keep her eye on her if that were the case. And why was she here at the same time as rumors of some plot against the queen were flying around? Was she in trouble? Kidnapped for leverage, maybe? Or had she switched sides?

Deciding to just go and find out in person exactly what was going on, she started forward, but a sudden vampiric presence behind her had her drawing up short. She stood still, watching as the man and Sookie disappeared through the bare metal door, then turned to face the darkness behind her.

"I know you're there. I've got things to be doing, so can we just cut out the stalking crap and get to the part where I pummel you and go on my merry way?"

"But you're just so deliciously stalkable," a familiar voice said.

Eric stepped out of the shadows, giving her a fangy grin that she couldn't help but return (but, you know, sans fangs). She should've been annoyed, after all she had a job to be doing. But instead she was glad to see him - had actually been looking forward to seeing him again.

"Yeah, well, I've had more than enough creepy stalkers in my day, I don't need any more," she answered, looking him up and down. And up and down again. Was it just her, or had he somehow gotten imore/i good looking? That, and… "What are you _wearing_?"

The suit Eric had on wasn't nearly as flattering as the black number he'd been wearing at Threadgill's masquerade, but it was still nice. The cut was at least, the tweedy brown color was doing him no favors. It reminded her uncomfortably of Spike when he was hiding from the loan shark…

"I'm in disguise," he said somewhat proudly. "How do I look?"

What was it with tweed (or tweed looking) suits being a disguise? Or really, what was it with her and her fascination for blond vampires that wore tweed as a disguise?

"That color is terrible on you," she blurted, not liking the sudden comparisons to Spike she was making.

His grin dropped away and he looked down, tugging on the vest a little. Feeling a pang of guilt, Buffy bit her lip and decided to throw him a bone.

"Okay," she said grudgingly. "The glasses with the hair are kinda sexy."

That was an understatement. Once she stopped looking at the clothes and just studied him from the neck up, she was blindsided by the weird intellectual pirate fantasy that popped into her head. His blond hair was swept back into a braid, some defiant strands that refused to be controlled hung loose around his face and the glasses were very geek-chic. Together it was an odd, but very sexy, combination. Unfortunately, her traitorous brain didn't stop there. It was combing the hair with a black billowy shirt and tight pants for a very roguish Princess Bride look, then combining the glasses with a perfectly tailored black suit, maybe with pin stripes and a blue button up the color of his eyes - like he was some kind of Eric paper doll and her mind was switching out the wardrobe fantasies.

Suddenly the alley didn't seem so cold anymore. Realizing she was staring, she coughed a little and looked off to the side, finding the cracked brick there very interesting. She could feel the heat in her face and could only hope she wasn't blushing. Risking a glance at him, that hope was dashed. He was grinning widely, fangs on display while his eyes had taken on a predatory gleam.

"Well, it was good seeing you again, hope you have fun tonight!" She said giving him a cheery smile and whirling toward the exit of the alley before she died of embarrassment.

Suddenly he was right in front of her, chest brushing hers as she came to a halt. Breathless from the display of speed and his proximity, she slowly craned her neck up to look in his eyes. The amusement had fled, replaced by an intensity that almost made her take a step back. _Almost_. She had a feeling Eric was the type she didn't want to give any ground to, not even one step. What was the old saying? Give him an inch and he'll take a mile?

"Where have you been?" His voice was pitched low, intimate, and his eyes bored into hers. She wondered if he was trying to do that glamour thing that she'd heard about. Well, she was hypnotized all right, but not by any wiggy eyeball power. The color of his eyes, the lines of his face, the way her chest brushed his with every breath….

"Away," she answered, fighting the urge to take a deep breath, to suck in more of that dark, masculine scent.

His lips curled downward slightly and a little line appeared between his eyes.

"Are we really going to continue this dance?" He asked seriously. "Going in circles each time we meet? Can't you see we're on the same side?"

The bars of reason slammed down on Buffy's attraction. She knew nothing about this guy except that he was hot and seemed to like following her around. 'On the same side', what the hell did he mean by that? Did he know that she was working for Sophie-Anne? She wasn't worried about risking herself by playing with Eric, but she wouldn't risk Sophie-Anne - she'd given her a job, a place to live, a purpose.

"And what side is that? The side of night-loving fun? Because that's the side I'm on tonight."

"You don't trust me." Remarkably, he sounded surprised.

"I _like_ you. But, no, I don't trust you. I don't know anything about you except that you pop out of nowhere every time I'm in the middle of something. All that makes me think is that you really do have some stalker-y tendencies."

"I let you go in Texas and in Arkansas. While people searched, I said nothing."

"And I'm sure you had your own reasons for that," Buffy said, not buying the magnanimous routine for a second.

He stared down at her for another moment, his face unreadable, before he took a step back.

"Very well, I guess I'll just have to prove I'm trustworthy."

"And how're you going to do that?" She asked warily.

"I'm going to tell you what I know, despite the fact that I'll be putting myself at risk by doing so," he said, spinning so he was standing next to her and looking at the bar across the street. "Russell Edgington's people have kidnapped Bill Compton."

Buffy's head whipped around to look at him. Seeing the seriousness written on his face she turned slowly back to look at Josephine's, mind running a mile a minute. "Oh crap…" She breathed, recalling Sophie-Anne's words to her before the Dallas job about her having something special she needed Bill to work on for her. Was it something important enough to warrant kidnapping him?

"Hmm. Yes, that about sums it up. Sookie is here trying to get a lead on his whereabouts."

"You know Sookie?"

"Yes, I do. I also know that you work for the Queen of Louisiana as some kind of mysterious problem solver. An information gatherer."

"There's a Queen of Louisiana?" Buffy asked innocently, blinking up at Eric with a head tilt. After Dallas, she couldn't really pretend she didn't know Sookie, but she could damn well play clueless about Sophie-Anne.

He cracked a small smile. "Yes there is. I should know since I work for her as well."

Buffy's mouth fell open. "Wait, what?"

"I think it's time we were properly introduced," he said, turning to face her fully again. "I am Eric Northman, Sherriff of Area Five."

Buffy blinked at him dumbly for a moment, trying to put the pieces together, see if he was being truthful or just trying to goad her into revealing something about herself. But then she remembered Sophie-Anne talking about that particular "willful" Sherriff, the one that ran the area Bill and Sookie were from and could've been in Dallas at the same time she was even though he hadn't asked permission. That explained why he was in Dallas. But…

"Why were you at Threadgill's?"

"Looking for you."

"Me?" She asked, surprised once again. "Why?"

"I am very old Buffy. It's extremely rare that something comes along that captures my attention so completely. And never has that some_thing_ actually been a some_one_."

"…Oh," Buffy breathed out, tearing her eyes from his and looking back across the street to the bar.

What was she supposed to say to that? It was one thing to fantasize about a beautiful man you knew nothing about. It was a whole different thing when you found out he was just as interested in you, if not more so. Her mouth suddenly felt really dry.

"What did you mean before, when you said it'd put you at risk to tell me the truth?"

"Because I wasn't supposed to be in either Texas or Arkansas without informing the queen. And if she found out I let Bill be kidnapped… well, she'd be very unhappy to say the least. Me and all the people that work for me would be at risk if you told her what was going on here."

Buffy was momentarily taken aback by how Eric apparently thought Sophie-Anne was dangerous to him and the people that worked for him. While Buffy had a healthy respect for the queen as her boss, she'd never really feared her wrath, not in a physical sense anyway. Worried she'd be fired, kicked out of her apartment and left to sleep on pigeon infested rooftops? Yes. Worried she'd be in mortal danger? No. Not since that first night when she'd kicked Andre's ass.

But she pulled the disbelieving words back before they could be spoken out-loud and really thought about it. Just because she didn't fear Sophie-Anne in a physical sense didn't mean she wasn't dangerous. Buffy had faced the worst of the worst and survived, there was very little that could scare her anymore. On some subconscious level she'd already decided that if the queen attacked her, she'd take her on and win. The mentality of a Slayer at work. But Sophie-Anne was very old, very cunning, and had amassed a great deal of power. You didn't do that as a vampire by playing nice. You did it by instilling fear and taking out anybody that got in your way. There were rules and customs that Buffy still knew nothing about that surely would come into play in a situation like this, and she accepted that Eric could very well be right - Sophie-Anne's wrath toward another vampire under her rule could be swift and brutal.

With a determined nod, she turned back toward Eric. Whatever his reasons, he'd helped her before, covered for her. She'd do the same.

"Right then. We just have to get Bill back and everything will be fine. Cake."

"Cake?" He asked, looking a little bewildered and maybe a little thrown by her sudden determination.

"As in 'a piece of'," she said with a distracted hand wave. "Now, I know I came here looking for rumors. Bar talk and all that. But if you already know that Bill's missing, why are you here? And Sookie? He's obviously not going to be held here. Is someone in there that knows where he is?"

"That's what we're hoping to find out," Eric said. "Sookie was already here last night. She heard someone thinking about Bill being tortured for information. Tonight she's-"

"Wait, 'heard someone thinking'… What does- Sookie can read minds?"

"Yes…" He said slowly, giving her a weird look. "You didn't know she was a telepath?"

"Telepath… I was thinking that was the thing where you can move stuff with your mind!"

"No, that's telekinesis," Eric said with a laugh.

"I know that!" Buffy snapped. "It's just one of those things, you know. You hear it and you think it's one thing when it's another, but it just sticks that way and you- Holy crap, did she read my mind in Dallas?"

"No, she couldn't. Why is that?"

"Thank god," Buffy said, almost wilting with relief and purposely ignoring his question.

Jeez, how stupid had that been? Here she was trying to keep it a secret she was from another dimension and she was riding around with a freaking mind reader. Why was she thinking she was telekinetic? She knew what telepathic meant - hell, _she_ was telepathic that one time. If Eric hadn't been standing there she would've slapped her palm to her forehead.

"Okay," she said, straightening up and squaring her shoulders. Time to get this show on the road. "I take it you're about as welcome prancing around Edgington's territory as I am, so I guess we're in this one together. Let's get in there, see what we can find, or what Sookie can find, then we'll go get Bill."

"You're not going to tell Sophie-Anne about this?"

"Nah, I'll have to think up something later on, but I'll cross that bridge when I get there."

When he didn't answer her, she turned to find him watching her with a strange look on his face. He shook it off quickly though and nodded toward the bar.

"Watch yourself in there. It's a full moon, the Weres and Shifters will be restless. It won't take much for violence to break out."

Buffy almost blurted out "Were? As in werewolves?" but luckily she stopped herself - she'd already looked like an idiot enough tonight without adding asking obvious questions like that on the pile. Guess that was what she'd been sensing earlier…

"Goodie, two matches walking into a powder keg. What could go wrong?" She asked dryly, moving out of the alley toward the bar, Eric at her side.

Eric gave a laugh that told her that he probably wouldn't mind finding out just what could go wrong - he'd probably find it exciting. And despite her good sense telling her otherwise, she found herself grinning over at him and entertaining the same thought.

Her laughter was cut short as he opened the door for her and they stepped into a little interior alcove of Josephine's. It was dark and musty smelling and Buffy found her lip curling up a little. Another door sat about four feet away and it opened almost immediately.

The doorman was a goblin. A goblin with a staring problem. Buffy stared right back.

"What are you?" It asked, still giving her the stink-eye.

"Annoyed and offended. What are you?"

The goblin scowled and Buffy raised an eyebrow. After a brief stretch of tense silence, it grudgingly let them pass.

"Nothing is ever boring with you, is it?" Eric asked, his eyes dancing with amusement.

"You'd be surprised," she muttered, taking in the club and its patrons in a glance.

There was nothing special about the bar itself - the lingering scent of beer and blood, "Love is a Battlefield" blaring on the sound system, a bunch of tables and chairs, a bar and a clear area for dancing. It was the clientele that was different. Her Slayer senses were going wild. Continuing to check out the room, Buffy's eyes almost fell out of their sockets when she got a good look at the dance floor.

"Oh my god… What is she _doing_?"

"She appears to be dancing," Eric said, casting an appreciative eye on the bumping and grinding Sookie and another girl were doing.

It didn't look like Sookie was missing Bill too much - she was laughing and shaking her groove-thang like there was no tomorrow, drawing the attention of the entire room. Taking the opportunity to go unnoticed while she observed everyone, Buffy let her eyes sweep over the room again. They stuttered to a halt again when they reached the bar, the sight there almost as shocking as Sookie's lesbian dance party.

"You've gotta be kidding me," Buffy growled.

"What is it?" Eric asked, leaning in close to her. She could practically hear the ripping sound as he tore his eyes off Sookie.

She knew immediately she'd have to take care of this quickly or the whole night would go to hell in a hand-basket before it even started. Grabbing the lapel of Eric's suit, she pulled him down and spoke quickly right in his ear.

"Want me to trust you? Here's your chance. That's Steve Newlin, tool extraordinaire and top dirty Fotser," she said, nodding to the bar. "His buddy there has a stake in his pocket. That or he's just really happy to see… well, everything. I'm going to go over there, get the stake and hand it off to you. Then I'm going to get the two idiots to leave before they get eaten."

Eric eyed the two at the bar, his expression bland.

"Why would you save them? You know they'll just do it again. And next time someone like you probably won't be around to stop them."

"I know," Buffy said with an irritated huff. "If they attack someone in here, they'll get ripped to shreds whether they're successful or not. It's a suicide mission. And I'm being completely stupid, but I- I just _can't_ stand by and watch them get killed. I just _can't_. They're idiots, and they're bigots, and Newlin flat out planned to kill Sookie, but… They're still humans and something in me just won't let them go down like that if I can help it."

"But if the positions were reversed and it were vampires planning on killing humans, you wouldn't hesitate to kill them," he said.

There was no judgment in his voice, only curiosity, but Buffy still flushed with guilt.

"I know. I'm bigoted too, I guess. But I'm working on it."

"I'd hardly call you a bigot," he said, with a little grin. "Maybe just… morally confused."

Buffy gave a little laugh. "That's an excellent way to put it. Okay, lets get this done while the Sookie Sookie Nookie Dance is distracting everyone."

She heard Eric laugh behind her as she moved through the crowd toward the two men at the bar. Newlin was looking a little worn around the edges. His hair was longer and, though neatly combed, was a little ragged looking. As were his rumpled clothes. She'd heard that the main Fellowship center in Dallas had had some… _difficulties_. Apparently the press and all the followers that showed up to see the "show" of Godric burning only to get nothing but stammered explanations and excuses from Newlin, well… they weren't too happy. Then the police showed up, following up on an anonymous tip and searched the place. They found a huge cache of illegal weapons, rooms with silver shackles and chains, plus a dead man. On top of all that, the accounting books had been scoured and many illegal transactions were tracked back to them. Including, but not limited to, paying known drainers for killing vampires. The evidence had been extremely damning and Newlin's wife had been arrested immediately. But Steve had managed to disappear during all the confusion, slipping away without a word.

Apparently he hadn't decided to give up on his quest though.

Coming up quickly and quietly, she slid between the two standing at the bar, keeping her back to Newlin and rubbing up against the other man slightly while she purred a low "Hi there." With a quick slip of her hand, she had the stake yanked out of his waistband and passed it backwards. Immediately a pair of cool fingers brushed hers, whisking the stake out of sight with lightning quick speed. Sookie and the other girl were still commanding the attention of the bar, so no one noticed anything. Sighing with relief, she turned so she could lean her elbows back on the bar and look between the two men.

"Hey boys, havin' fun?"

The shorter of the two, the dark haired man she'd taken the stake from, was patting his waistband with a confused look on his face. Newlin though, he was looking at her with a combination of hate and fear.

"You…" He breathed out, his body going tense and starting to shake slightly.

He looked like he was about to launch himself at her so she held up a finger, wagging it in the air.

"Uh-uh, I wouldn't do that if I were you. You really want me announcing to the bar who you are?"

"Do it. I'm ready to die for my beliefs."

"Really? You're ready to die in some back alley bar where no one will ever find your body? You don't even have a stake so you can't even go down fighting. If you want to kill yourself, find some other way."

"And that's fine with you, isn't it? Knowing that these things would rip me apart and no one would ever know about it? You defend these _monstrosities_-"

"If it were fine with me, I would've let you get on with it and watched them kill you," Buffy said, turning her eyes to look right in Newlin's. "Or I would've just told them you had a stake. But I didn't because no matter what you think of me, I don't like seeing people die."

"Then why are you here? With these monsters? They corrupt souls, destroy lives-"

"Hate to break it to ya, Stevie, but humans are perfectly capable of destroying their own lives. And the only souls that are corrupted are the ones that want to be."

"These things draw people in with-"

"Listen, Newlin. I don't know what made you into this unrelenting, closed-minded person - if someone you know died or was turned or if you just started preaching for fame, and honestly I don't care. And if you want to die here tonight I can't really stop you. I could try to protect you and your insane-o buddy here, but I'd be really outnumbered and I'd probably fail. I've seen lots of people die, Steve. People that would've given anything for one more minute of life. It's a very precious thing to be throwing away, especially over something so stupid. So, go home, or to a hotel or whatever and think about what you're doing and if it's really worth it. I know you probably won't though, so just go and live to fight another day."

Newlin was starting at her blankly when she finished and her stomach plummeted. He wasn't buying it. He was going to go after some vamp with a beer bottle or something and get himself killed. She didn't like him. Hell, his black and white attitude hit so close to home that she actually hated him a little. But she wasn't ready for another person to die on her watch in this dimension.

He stood, his eyes not leaving hers, and she braced herself. Wondering briefly if she should knock him and his buddy out and drag them outside, if it'd be possible without setting light to the tension hanging in the bar. But Newlin surprised her.

"Let's go," he said, tearing his eyes from Buffy's to land on the dark haired man next to her.

"Go? But-"

Newlin turned toward the door and didn't look back, leaving the man to scramble after him. The door closed behind them just as Sookie and her friend finished their dance.

Buffy slumped slightly against the bar. She really hadn't thought he was going to leave. She didn't even want to think about the domino effect that could've started.

"That was quite the speech," Eric said, sliding into Newlin's vacated seat.

"I've had plenty of practice," she said with a shrug. "It's kinda my thing."

"Speeches and punning."

"Yep, now you know two-thirds of what makes me up. Punning, speeches and shoe shopping. That's all there is to me really."

"I find that very hard to believe," he answered. "I think I could be with you day after day for a hundred years and never really know all there is to you."

Buffy smiled slightly at the unexpected compliment but shook her head. "You give me too much credit."

"I think you give yourself far too little," he answered immediately. "Here comes Sookie."

It took Buffy a second to tear her eyes off Eric. There was a warm little tickle somewhere in her chest. It had nothing to do with physical attraction or the promise of excitement or entertainment that she had come to associate with Eric. No, it was something much more intimate than that. Something that meant she was in trouble.

She swallowed hard and turned to see Sookie staring at them with wide eyes. To her credit it only lasted a second though, then she was all smiles and acting naturally.

"Hey there, Leif! Alcide said you were coming," she said, stopping in front of them.

"Yes, and I brought Bunny with me. You two know each other, right?"

Buffy almost choked on her own tongue when he called her 'Bunny'. Looking over at him, she could see the laughter in his eyes plainly and mentally vowed to get him back for this.

"Bunny," Sookie said, sounding like she was choking on a laugh. "Of course, it's been a while. How have you been?"

Sookie slid into the seat next to her and they exchanged some bland small talk for any prying ears. Then Sookie leaned a little closer, the smile still etched onto her face but her eyes desperate and her voice barely more than a whisper.

"They took Bill. They're torturing him."

"I heard," Buffy said, well aware there were lots of very sharp vamp ears around and keeping her voice as low as possible. "Have you found anything out about where they might be keeping him?"

"I don't even know if he's still alive," she answered, her smile slipping. "No one's thinking about him tonight and I can't exactly bring up the subject. Eric seems to think that he's being held on the King's property."

Buffy cast a glance over Sookie's shoulder and though Eric wasn't looking at them, he gave a slight nod to show his agreement.

"I'm trying to think of a way to get invited to his house, but-"

"No, no, no," Buffy said, shaking her head. "That's too dangerous. What are you going to do? Waltz up in there as a guest then go searching the grounds?"

"Um, well, yes, that's what I was thinking…"

Eric too was looking at Buffy with a raised eyebrow, his face saying what his mouth wasn't - "What's wrong with that idea?"

"And what happens when you get caught? And what about your hot lumberjack looking date over there? They'll automatically think he was in on it with you. And your friend you danced with?"

Sookie went pale, but shook her head, "I can't just leave him, Buffy…"

"Let me and Eric take care of it. Stay here for a while longer like nothing's wrong, then you and your date leave and go home, or to your hotel, or whatever. The two of us," she said with a head nod at Eric, "can go creeping around Edgington's and look for Bill."

"No, I can't ask you to-"

"You didn't. I'm telling that's what's going to happen."

Sookie looked rebellious for a moment, then laughter drew her eyes back to the table where her date and her friend were. She nodded her reluctant agreement.

"Alright," she said. "Promise me, if he's alive, you'll save him."

"I promise, Sookie."

"And remember what I said about Lorena," she directed at Eric before getting up and leaving.

"Who's Lorena?" Buffy asked, watching Sookie slide back into her seat next to her date.

"Bill's maker. He had gone back to her and we think she turned him over to Edgington."

"Gone back to her? Like he left Sookie for her?"

"Yes. He was arranging for her to be taken care of when he disappeared," Eric said, the tone of his voice saying he was less than impressed with Bill's forethought.

"That _asshat_! Are you sure we have to save him?"

He tossed her a small grin. "Unfortunately, yes. He's the only one that knows where the work he was doing for Sophie-Anne is."

Turning fully on the bar stool to face her, he leaned in close, making her breath catch slightly and making his smile widen for a moment before it disappeared.

"We need to talk about this plan of yours. Edgington's compound is filled with vampires at night. Plus he has Weres that work for him that patrol the grounds. And on a full moon-"

"Yeah, yeah, I was just saying that for Sookie's benefit. I'm actually going to go during the day. Although, I'd really like to see his harem…"

"You're going during the day?" He asked, taken aback.

"Uh-huh, the vampires will all be sleeping and the Weres," she said, testing out the word. "Will all be, like, moon-hung-over or whatever. Should be easy for me to poke around."

"But if you go during the day, then I can't go," Eric said, his usually smooth voice leaning towards a whine.

"Yep, too bad for you," she said with a shrug and a falsely sympathetic look. Then she hopped off her stool and headed for the door. "Come on Dread Pirate Roberts, you can show me where Edgington hangs his vampy hat."

Eric appeared at her side, slipping an arm around her waist as they headed for the exit. She tried to tell herself it was just part of the show, but that didn't explain the warm flutter in her stomach.


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter Seventeen**

As they stepped out of Josephine's (or Club Dead as the Weres so eloquently called it), Eric marveled at how small Buffy was, tucked up against his side with his hand spanning one entire side of her ribcage. How was it that someone so small and delicate held so much power? Her hands, ridiculously small next to his own, had managed to knock him out and take on Victor Madden. He would never believed it if he hadn't witnessed it with his own eyes.

She stepped out of his hold almost as soon as they got to the sidewalk. He let her go without a word, satisfied in knowing her heart rate had picked up when he touched her. Well, satisfied would be pushing it, it would take much more than that to satisfy him. But it was enough for now.

"How far is it to Edgington's? My car's a few streets over."

"Not far. We can walk," he answered. He supposed he could fly with her, or they could drive, but that would shorten the time they spent together and that was the last thing he wanted. He was just starting to get her to trust him, to get inside her guards, he needed more time to cement that.

"What do you plan to do with Bill once you find him?" He asked. "It will be dangerous trying to move him in the daylight."

"My rental car has a pretty big trunk, I'll just stuff him in there."

"How will you get the car to where he's being held?"

"I'll just park it outside the grounds and cover him with a blanket or something. Make him run for it," she said with a shrug.

"He won't be able to," Eric said, eyebrows raised. "Even if he hadn't been tortured and starved for this long, he still wouldn't be able to get around like that in the daytime. He may be able to stumble a bit if he knows he's in danger, but that would probably only be for a short distance."

"What? I'm not following. Why wouldn't he be able to move? If the sun's not hitting him and making him all crispy, he'd be fine, right?"

"Wrong," he answered slowly. She seemed knowledgeable about vampires, and her fighting skills led him to believe she'd faced them before… Was it possible she didn't know what happened to them during the day? He decided to explain, just in case. "The compulsion for a vampire to sleep during the day is extremely strong. It leaves us completely helpless during the hours the sun is up."

"That's why you guys' sleeping place is so important…." she muttered, brow furrowed. "So you're just basically dead during the day?"

"For all intents and purposes, yes, pretty much."

"Seriously? That's… really creepy…"

He gave a head tilt of concession, "It's simply the way it is."

"That would be horrible… To not be able to stop yourself from falling asleep, knowing that anything could happen to you and you'd be helpless to stop it. Very Freddy Krueger-esque."

Once again unfamiliar with the terms she used (had she called him some kind of pirate earlier?), he just nodded and ignored it. "We are very careful to pick secure sleeping spots. And since most of our enemies tend to also be vampires, it's not usually a problem. But when humans such as the ones in the Fellowship of the Sun get involved…"

He left the statement hanging, sure she'd understand the problems of having humans hunting them during the day.

"You think I should've let Newlin and that other guy get killed," she said, her shoulders stiffening.

"I was simply answering your question honestly, with no thought to the Fellowship men you let go. But if they had died there, it wouldn't have bothered me at all."

He knew that wasn't the answer she wanted to hear. She had a deep sense of righteousness and would want the same values in a companion. Plus she wanted validation, to feel more secure in her decision. But he also knew lying to her would get him nowhere - she'd appreciate the fact that he told her the truth more in the long run.

Just as he suspected, she cast him a shuttered sideways glance at his statement.

"You wouldn't care if those two people died there in that bar."

The answer was simple - no, he didn't. Even if they hadn't been part of the loathed Fellowship, their fate still didn't concern him. But that would be unwise to say aloud. He felt it was important to be truthful with her, to gain her trust, but that didn't mean he had to tell her absolutely everything he was thinking.

"In my opinion, if you are willing to kill someone, you should also be prepared to die," he answered simply. A true statement, he did feel that way. It just wasn't his _whole_ thoughts on the subject.

The corner of her mouth curled down slightly but her eyes were thoughtful as they continued down the dark sidewalk. He let her be and took the moment to observe her in silence. She was a tasty vision in her simple black dress - the way it stopped mid-thigh left a large stretch of tan leg exposed. They seemed far longer than possible given her short stature… Her heeled shoes certainly helped with that though.

A small tremor worked its way through her and he had a brief moment of dread where he wondered if she'd put together how old he was with how many people he must have killed - a little fact that he was sure her virtuous spirit wouldn't appreciate at all. But then he noticed the tiny little goose bumps that accompanied the shiver and the way her breath was visibly fanning out in front of her. Not used to taking notice of the weather or the discomfort of a human, it was somewhat of a surprise to realize she was probably cold. After a second's mental debate, he deftly unbuttoned his suit jacket and slid it off, handing it to her without a word.

She stared at the item for a moment before a small smile replaced her thoughtful look, telling him he'd made the right choice. Another point earned. As she reached her hand out to take it, he noticed the sharp tang of magic he'd sensed earlier that night. He'd been searching for her since he came into town yesterday and had been starting to think he'd miscalculated, that he'd riled up Sophie-Anne by spreading numerous rumors about Edgington for nothing, that Buffy wasn't going to show. Then he'd finally caught her scent as he'd approached the club, only to almost be thrown off of her trail by the sudden scent of magic. It was coming from the ring on her finger. A wide silver band with a little wooden inset, his sharp eyes could make out unfamiliar sigils curling around it.

"That's an interesting ring," he said as she pulled her hand back and slipped into his coat.

His curiosity was thwarted for a moment when he took in the sight of her in his jacket though. It was longer than her dress and billowed out around her, making her appear somewhat like an ostrich with her long thin legs and round body. He let out a loud bark of laughter at the sight, causing her to scowl at him slightly as she fought to roll the sleeves up.

Finally freeing her fingers, she sighed in relief and wiggled them around, making him smile again. She really was endlessly entertaining.

"How much further until Edgington's?"

And mysterious. He knew she'd heard his comment about her ring and was purposely acting like she hadn't. He considered calling her on it, but just as quickly dismissed the idea. It wouldn't do to push her now. If things went well, he'd have plenty of time to find out her secrets.

"About a mile more," he said, answering her question about Edgington's and letting the topic of the ring drop.

He was sure he saw her relax slightly before she turned to him with an expression discontent.

"Another mile?" She almost whined. "I thought you said it was close? We could've been there by now if we drove."

"Are you tired? Do your feet hurt? Would you like me to carry you?" He asked with mock sincerity.

"Psh, no. I could run around this whole town in these heels. They're my favorites. It just seems like a waste of time."

"Not a waste at all. Sharing your company is a perfectly reasonable use of time, in my opinion."

"You're really laying it on thick tonight," she said with a good natured smirk.

"I'm hoping if I flatter you endlessly you might not disappear on me again."

She opened her mouth to answer, but stopped before the words came out. Her jaw snapped closed with a click and her eyes darted past him down an alley, body tensing as her steps halted. It was maybe two seconds later that her heard it - something was coming toward them and coming fast. Could she have heard it before him? How was that possible?

Eric had a moment to wonder if it was one of Edgington's men, coming after him because he'd been identified by someone. Then Bubba landed with a light thud right in front of them.

"Hey there, Mister Eric."

"Bubba. I thought you were supposed to be watching over Sookie?" He asked, a brow raised. Usually Bubba, although a little slow, still followed simple orders very well. And he was particularly fond of Sookie, so it seemed odd for him to be here instead of watching her.

"I am. Her and that Were just left the club. This here's a shortcut to that apartment building she's staying in," he said proudly.

"Ah, that's good then. Let me introduce you to…" He stopped when he turned to Buffy, finding her stock still and wide eyed. "…Buffy…"

"Don't I know you, miss?" Bubba asked, his brow furrowing up in thought.

"Me? Nope, never met before in my life. I've never even seen you before. You know, from, like, across a room or anything. Perfect strangers, that's what we are. You ever see that show? The one with the guy that talked funny? No? Wasn't that good anyway…"

Silence fell over them as Buffy ended her rambling, her eyes looking a little wild. Then Bubba gave her his famous, most dashing smile.

"You're kinda strange, Miss Buffy. I think I like you."

"That's good," she answered weakly.

"Good meetin' you, Miss Buffy," he said with a smile, then turned to Eric and nodded. "Mr. Eric. Gotta get on over to guard Miss Sookie now."

And with a wave he was off again.

"What was _that_?" Eric asked Buffy, completely thrown by the odd display.

"Nothing," she answered a little too quickly before turning away from him and continuing down the sidewalk.

"Oh, that was definitely not 'nothing'," he said, catching up with her in two long strides. "What set off that stream of babble?"

She shrugged, not looking at him. "I just do that sometimes. Nothing out of the ordinary."

Well, that much he could believe. But there was more to it in this case, he was sure.

"So your over-the-top insistence that you didn't know him and had never seen him before was because…"

"I'd just never seen him before, that's all."

"Let's see… Maybe you're a shy fan and got flustered. All that pelvic thrusting does seem to get the women worked up," he said, fighting off a smile at her grimace. "Or maybe-"

"You're not going to let this go, are you?" She asked with a withering glare.

"No, no I'm not."

"Okay, so, I might've met him once before. And I might've been taken a little by surprise and… said his real name."

He was rendered speechless for a moment, realizing how lucky they'd been that Bubba hadn't remembered her. Then it came to him…

"_You_ were the human girl that sent him into a rage at The Dead Gator?" He asked, trying unsuccessfully not to laugh. He and Pam had gotten a kick out of that story when a New Orleans' vamp had come through town last month and told them about it. The amusement suddenly faded as he remembered another piece of that story. "You were there with one of the Queen's guards, Rasul…"

"Oh man, he told me he'd never live that down," she said, laughing slightly and shaking her head. "I didn't really believe him, but I guess if you heard about it…"

Eric had lost all good humor though. "Why were you with him?"

"We were out vampire bar hopping that night. The Dead Gator was the first stop, and I have to say, the most exciting."

"You were out 'bar hopping' with Rasul."

She cast him a look, her nose scrunching slightly. "Is it me or did your accent just get accentier?"

"Why were you with him?"

Logically, he knew he shouldn't be acting like this. He was supposed to be earning her trust. Learning about her and how best to insinuate his way into her life. But something dark and bitter curled in him at the thought of her with Rasul. He'd met the guard once, and seen him in passing a few times since then when he visited New Orleans. His mind reached for anything he'd heard about him. From Israel, he believed, Rasul was fairly young - not even Compton's age if he was remembering correctly. He supposed he was good looking in a dark sort of way. Shorter hair and the sandy complexion of someone darker skinned turned vampire, a slightly hooked nose… Definitely not competition for himself. He shouldn't be a problem. Nothing to worry about. Definitely not…

"You okay? You're looking a little constipated."

His eyes snapped back to her green questioning ones.

"Why were you with him?" He asked again, his voice a little sharper than he'd intended.

"With Rasul? Well, we'd been planning a vampy bar night for a while, but I'd been busy. What's with the- Wait, are you _jealous_?"

She stopped and faced him, her surprise fading into amusement and then irritation. It would've been fascinating in any other circumstances. As it was he found himself tensing in defense while his own annoyance teetered on the edge of anger.

"Okay, seems like we need to get some things straight real quick," she said, looking slightly ridiculous as she craned her neck to look up at him, hands barely peeking out of the sleeves and on her hips. "This weird possessive jealousy vibe you're giving out? Not gonna fly. We barely know each other, so back off. And if we're going to get to know each other, you need to know right off that I choose who my friends are. So if your panties are gonna get all twisted about me hanging out with Rasul, too damn bad."

Her standing there, thinking to order him about anything, looking so small yet defiant… it chased away the acrid taste of jealousy and replaced it with a kind of hot anticipation, a syrupy sensual feeling. It exploded in him so suddenly, that he didn't even realize he'd moved until he had her pressed to the window the shop on sidewalk next to them - hands on her shoulders and face inches from hers. Wide green eyes blinked up at him, even more surprised than he was, then her brows drew down, anger washing over her delicate features.

"What the hell-"

Then he was kissing her. His control was frayed to a thin thread and he wasn't even sure why. Something about her made him lose all reason. Soft lips were unmoving under his, her small body radiated a delicious heat but was stiff and unyielding as he pressed against her. The unfamiliar feeling of failure (and maybe a dash of shame) reared up in him. What was he doing? Was _this_ how he was going to win her attentions? Make her his? Actually, it occurred to him then that it might have been the realization that she _couldn't_ be _made_ his that spurred him into such an action. The thought that she couldn't be controlled was more of an aphrodisiac than a deterrent.

When her hands came up and gripped fistfuls of the front of his shirt, he was already pulling back, ready to get punched again and willing to admit he deserved it. But that wasn't quite what happened. Instead of pushing him back, she pulled him more tightly against her, lips parting under his with a soft sigh. And just like that, what little control he'd gained back started slipping away again.

His tongue swept against hers. She tasted like she smelled - sweet with a hint of darkness. The sensation of moist heat combined with the taste of her blasted across his senses, tempting him in deeper. One of her hands crept up to his hair, loosening the short braid and tangling her fingers in the strands. Her other hand released the material near his collarbone to slide down his chest and over his stomach in a way that made him groan into her mouth, before coming to rest at his side above his hip. Once again gripping the material tightly and pulling him closer.

And closer is just where he wanted to be. But being that he had to stoop slightly to reach her mouth made it difficult. Prying his hands from the grip he had on her shoulders, he moved in closer and wrapped one arm around her waist, hoisting her higher against the window so he could press himself fully against her. Her teeth nipped at his lip as she settled her legs around his hips, seemingly fine with her change in altitude.

The pounding of her pulse, her panting breaths, the frantic push and pull between their mouths, the feeling of finally being so intimately pressed against her - it all combined to a fever pitch in him, making colors sharper, senses stronger, but with a slow haze settling over everything. Part of him knew he needed to get control of himself, a small quickly ignored voice in the back of his mind.

One hand slid up to her hair, tangling in it much as hers was tangling in his, and tugging her head back as he kissed her deeper and harder. His other hand slipped from around her waist, no longer needed to hold her up since her legs were locked tightly around him. His hand found its way between them, cupping a breast and squeezing slightly before continuing down and stopping at her hip. Fingers nimbly gathering material and revealing more and more leg. A low throaty groan was met with a growl as his hand slid under the newly bared thigh and his mouth moved down the smooth column of her throat. The sound of something cracking barely brushed his awareness.

The gasp that met his ears and the way her hips pressed forward against his when his fingers slipped under the edge of her underwear were what undid him. His own hips bucked forward at the same time his fangs brushed the juncture of her neck and shoulder. A much louder cracking sound marked a sudden flurry of movement he didn't have the wits to follow and the next thing he knew he was laying on his back, blinking up at the sky. Still painfully hard and hungry.

The "tap tap tap" of heeled steps had him turning his head to find Buffy pacing in front of the store window, now with an oval of spider-webbed glass where he'd had her pressed. Her hair was wild from his fingers and her face was flushed. He sat up, watching her and wanting to continue where they left off but knowing that wasn't going to be happening from the dark look she shot at him.

"You- I just- what was- Ugh! Idiot!"

She seemed to direct the last part at herself, her pacing picking up speed. He got to his feet, a little uncomfortably, and took a step toward her.

"Oh no, no, no," she said, whirling around to face him and shaking a finger in front of her. "You just stay right over there. This doesn't change anything. Just because I was weak and gave into some kissage and a little petting doesn't change anything I said before. And the whole caveman thing where you try to kiss me into submission- I know it seems like it worked really well, but that's just because I haven't been with anybody in a long time. I was caught off guard, okay. And you kiss really well. And smell good. But you try and manhandle me like that again and I'll kick your ass. And you try and _bite _me again, I'll stake you where you stand. Got it?"

He tried to look contrite but was sure he failed miserably because she just kind of huffed at him and spun away.

"And look! We vandalized someone's window," she said, waving a hand at the damaged store front. "Oh god, what if they had a security camera! My ass was pressed up against that window!"

"And what an ass it is," he said, using his vampire speed to step up behind her and whisper in her ear.

She whipped around and shoved him in the chest, making him take a couple steps back.

"You just stay in your personal little bubble and stay out of mine. I don't make out with vampires I barely know on public streets in the middle of the night. I mean, other than just now. But it won't be happening again! So… you just stay over on your side of the sidewalk and I'll stay on mine. Now let's get to Edgington's."

She looked adorably flustered and embarrassed, and more than a little tense.

"I could help with all that pent up frustration," he said with fangy smirk, falling in step beside her as they continued on their way.

"You- you just shut up."

They walked two more blocks in silence. Buffy looking like she was having some kind of internal self-deprecating argument while Eric firmly reestablished his control. On one hand, he couldn't believe he'd been so reckless. He could've ruined everything with that move. But on the other, now he knew she was just as attracted to him as he was to her.

Tired of the silence and wanting to regain some of the ground he might've lost, he spoke up as they neared Edgington's.

"The estate is just ahead. We'll have to be careful approaching. He'll have vampire sentries on duty right now, and maybe some Weres. Tomorrow when you come, obviously the vampires will be sleeping but there'll be a new shift of Weres and maybe some human guards as well. Don't underestimate the shifters just because tonight's a full moon."

"I'd like to get a layout of the place," she said, casting her eyes up at the tops of the buildings. "Let's get to a rooftop."

He nodded, impressed with her foresight and moved toward her.

"Hey, hey," she said, holding her hands up in front of her. "What are you doing?"

"I was going to fly us to the top of that building," he said, irritation warring with amusement at her panicky look.

"Uh-uh. Personal bubble, remember. I'll find a fire escape."

Sighing, he waved a hand for her to lead the way like she was inconveniencing him. But truthfully, although he'd love nothing more than to get her that close to him again, he conceded that it wasn't the best idea if he wanted to keep his control and earn back the trust he'd lost.

Around the back of an apartment building they found an old fire escape. Buffy reached for the ladder, her fingers coming nowhere near the lowest rung. He smirked at her disgruntled look and he could see her contemplate jumping for it. Seeing her jumping around probably wouldn't be good for his control either… He stepped past her and pulled down the ladder in one quick movement, glad when a squeal of metal didn't accompany it. He'd like to keep this little reconnoitering session as quiet as possible. If Edgington even caught a hint of someone sneaking around he'd slam up so much security that it would be impossible to get in without a small army.

Stepping by him quickly, Buffy started climbing, silent except for the tiniest dinging of her shoes on the metal rungs. He hoped the thing wasn't rusted out anywhere. Glancing up to follow her progress he was presented with a perfect view up her dress. He closed his eyes and muttered an ancient curse. It seemed like the fates were just fucking with him now.

Deciding she could fend for herself against any rust, he flew up to the top to wait on her. She vaulted up onto the edge of the roof moments after him, her grace and speed once again straining his curiosity about her secrets.

"Wow, that place is… Wow," she said, coming to a stop next to him and taking in the view of Edgington's estate. While not nearly as grand as Threadgill's, it was still impressive. A large white mansion with massive columns sat in the middle of the walled grounds. There was only one entrance, a gate that was manned 24 hours a day.

Glancing over at Buffy, he was taken aback by the strict focus she was showing. Gone was any embarrassment or rambling. She was still as a vampire except for her breathing as her eyes took in every detail of the grounds. He followed as she walked to the west, looking for a better view.

"Not counting the house, I see one more medium sized building and two small ones. You agree?"

"Yes," he said, tearing his gaze from her. "The two small ones look to be a pool house and a tool shed. The larger perhaps a garage or guest house."

"He could be in any of those," she mumbled. "I suppose I should just hope he's not in the main house…"

This time she walked to the east side of the rooftop, eyes tracing the surrounding streets, the gate and the winding drive.

"You're right, it's way to far to try and get him out on foot. I'll have to get my car in there."

"And how will you do that?"

"I'll work something out," she said with a dismissive wave. "I'll have to come early, too. Right after the vampires go to bed and while the Weres are still hopefully groggy from tonight's festivities."

"I agree. You'll have to be careful of new arrivals though. Some might come in late."

"Good point," she said, mouth curling downward unhappily. "What should I do with Bill when I get him out of there?"

Her study of the estate apparently complete, she turned back to Eric, meeting his eyes unflinchingly. This was someone used to snapping into soldier mode at a moments notice. Another puzzle piece, but no place to put it…

"Somewhere dark would be best, even if he is already in a trunk," he answered. "Perhaps somewhere underground? Does the hotel you're staying in have a parking garage?"

"Nope. Yours?"

"Yes, but it's the only vampire hotel in town. They'll be likely to search for him there when they realize he's missing," he said, turning over options and discarding them just as quickly. "Sookie is staying with Alcide in an building with underground parking, you could take him there. We'll have to get a key card though."

He glanced at his watch and almost grimaced. It was late. Or more accurately, it was early. Sookie wouldn't appreciate being woken by him tapping on her window again. He wasn't really in the mood to find her irritation and scolding amusing. And the sun would be up soon…

"No, we can't ask her. Then she'll know I'm going in by myself and I have a feeling she wouldn't go for that. I don't really want to deal with her insisting on going along or something. It'll be hard enough without having to watch out for her too. Just show me where the building is, I'll worry about getting the car in there tomorrow."

"I'm a little concerned about all this improvising you'll be doing…"

"It's how I work best," she answered with a little smile as she turned back toward the fire escape.

Shaking his head a little, he followed her down. His life depended on this girl getting Bill out of Edgington's estate. Her plan had holes all through it. She was tiny and she'd be outnumbered greatly. But for some reason he couldn't find it in himself to doubt her. Maybe it was her own confidence. Maybe it was because he'd seen her in action, seen her determination become a force to be reckoned with.

Or maybe in his goal to get her to trust him, he'd started trusting her instead.


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter Eighteen**

Buffy dashed out of her room to her rental car, trying to fluff out her still damp hair as she ran. She would've had more time to shower and change if she had just let Eric fly her back to her car on the way to his hotel, but since she was almost positive that would end in another make-out session, she'd had to say no. Leaving her to rush around as she tried to make it back to Edgington's right as the sun rose.

Locating her car in the predawn light, she slid behind the wheel and closed her eyes in embarrassment as she buckled her seatbelt. A replay of one of her mom's speeches about self-respect played in her head and with her eyes closed she could see Joyce, shaking a finger at her and saying something about buying a cow and getting milk for free. She didn't really understand the relevance there, but she was sure it had something to do with _not_ being a giant slut and throwing yourself at vampires you barely know.

What the hell had she been thinking? She'd been all prepared to kick his ass for grabbing her like that. But, he'd just smelled so good… And he'd felt so nice… And his lips-

"Gah! Stop!" She yelled at herself, shoving the key in the ignition with a little too much force and starting the car. "Oh, Eric, why don't you just knock me in the head and drag me to your cave next time? It's so hot when you act like possessive jackass."

She loosened her grip on the steering wheel, hearing it creak a little under the pressure she was putting on it. She still couldn't believe she'd let him get away with that. No, not only "get away with", but pretty much _rewarded_ his actions. She was an embarrassment to feminists everywhere…

It also wasn't really fair to blame _him_ for the way _she_ reacted. She could've, _should've_, pushed him away and made it clear that manhandling her would only get him his ass handed to him. _She_ was the one who went all hot and gooey and attacked him some kind of sexual deviant.

She grimaced in embarrassment again, glad no one was out on the roads at this hour to see her making crazy person faces as she drove toward Edgington's house.

She would've been happy to just run back to New Orleans and not have to face Eric again after what had happened, at least for a while. But he had to go and make things even more complicated by asking her to wait for him.

"_Don't leave. After you find Bill, don't leave. Wait for me to rise. We'll go back to Louisiana tomorrow night together."_

In a car alone with Eric for hours. It was a dangerous idea. But she had no plans on making out with him like that again (to be fair, she never had any intention of making out with him in the first place either). And she really did like talking to him. Some of the things he said, they really made her think. Her morality was still all twisted up in this dimension, but she liked getting different perspectives. As long as she stuck to her guns and kept her hands to herself it should be fine. Right?

She groaned. _Yeah, right, just keep deluding yourself, Buffy_. Clouds rolled in overhead, matching her mood.

She shook her head, trying to loosen thoughts of Eric and send them to the back of her mind. She had a vampire to rescue. Time to get her head in the game. Taking a deep breath, she took a left onto the road the mansion was on and adjusted her expression to something more ditzy. She drove down the street a good ten miles an hour below the speed limit and looked around in fake confusion. Then, spotting the mansion, made a show of hitting the breaks and gawking. Parking her car right in the drive in front of the gate, she got out and stared at the place in awe - not really having to pretend at that, it really was beautiful.

It only took about ten seconds for a big, burly guy with a shaved head and a leather vest to come stumbling out of the gate house. She guessed he must've been a werewolf from the way her Slayer senses tingled and how tired he looked.

"What're ya doin' out there," he demanded blearily. Obviously he'd been asleep on the job.

"Oh, sorry," she said giving him a bright smile. "This place is just so awesome, I had to stop. I wish I had my camera… Does someone famous live here?"

He blinked at her stupidly for a second, then looked her up and down twice. She was just wearing a pair of yoga pants and a snug long-sleeved tee shirt (she didn't want to look like she was trying too hard), but it still had the desired effect. His eyes cleared some and the slow smirk that appeared on his face was a borderline leer.

"Depends on your definition of famous, baby," he said, strutting toward the gate and looking more awake. "A big wig vampire lives here."

She gave a dramatic little gasp and looked around like the big mean vampire might just pop out of nowhere.

"A- a vampire?" She asked, her voice scared and breathy.

She was worried she was laying it on a bit thick, but he just grinned wider, leaning on the gate with his forearms as he watched her.

"Uh-huh. Don't worry, they're all asleep now."

He took a few deep breaths, obviously pulling in her scent. Boy was she glad she'd taken the time to shower and change before she came here. Having Eric's smell rubbed all over her would've made things a bit more difficult.

Thinking of Eric and how his smell got all over her, she felt herself blushing. But it seemed to work in her favor because the guard looked even more cocky, his smirk turning downright feral.

"You're sure?" She asked, leaning in and whispering.

He nodded, taking another deep breath. Him sniffing her like that was just creepy.

"What's a girl like you doing wandering around here anyway?"

"Well, I was in Jackson visiting my cousin. I'm supposed to be leaving tomorrow though, so I wanted to see the sights today. I guess I got a little turned around…" She said sheepishly before brightening. "But it turned out okay. I found this place and you!"

He was buying her innocent act hook, line and sinker. He didn't even question the fact that Jackson had precious little in the way of sights and there was absolutely no need to be out at dawn to look at them. Instead, the look on his face turning hungry and devious. God, she was going to enjoy kicking his ass…

"You wanna see more than just the view from the gate? I could give you the full tour."

She almost grimaced at the way he said "full tour", but managed to pull it back at the last second.

"Really? You sure? That would be amazing! But I don't want you to get in any trouble…"

"Oh yeah, I'm sure."

Jeez, subtle this guy wasn't.

"Um, is it okay if I park my car inside there while you give me the tour? I have really bad luck with rentals and I just know if I leave it out here it'll get sideswiped or something."

"Sure," he said with a shrug. Really, he had no reason to say no, but Buffy still felt relieved anyway. It'd be a lot less risky if he just let her bring the car in now instead of trying to bring it in later.

He opened the gate for her and she drove the car in slowly, noticing that there was another guy in the booth fast asleep with his feet propped up on the control panel. She followed his pointed directions, parking by the large garage in the back. As she got out, she took in all three of the outbuildings, marked their entrances in her mind and also made a note of the backdoor to the main house. Dirty Bald Pervy Wolfman appeared before she could study it any further.

"Wow, you guard this place all by yourself?" She asked, pretending not to have seen the other man in the booth as she looked up at him with what she hoped was shining admiration.

"Nah, there are a few other guys around. But they're useless."

She wondered if he meant that literally or was just trying to sound more important. And how many more was a few exactly? Realizing it would be suspicious to ask about that any further, she just smiled and pointed toward a little garden behind the shed to their left.

"Is that a garden? Can we see it first?"

She'd picked the spot because it was out of view of both the main house and the gatehouse, not because it was pretty - being winter it was little more than a few benches surrounded by sticks. Obviously he was thinking along the same lines though, more concerned with its out of the way location than thinking about why she'd want to see it. He gave her a predatory grin and agreed. He walked a few steps behind her as they left the open area near her car, but that respect for personal space disappeared as soon as they stepped into the isolated garden. Suddenly he was right behind her, the smell of wet dog, stale beer and body odor making her lip curl in disgust.

Not even attempting any kind of seduction, he grabbed her by one arm and spun her around, the other hand going straight for her chest.

She took pleasure in the sound of bone snapping as she broke that hand before it reached its goal. He sucked in a sharp breath, surprise hitting him before pain. Before he could make a sound, she released his broken wrist and brought her elbow around with a sharp crack to his jaw. To her surprise, he released her, but didn't go down, just kind of swayed and blinked at her in confusion. Shaking her head a little she grabbed the front of his vest and jerked him forward, kneeing him in the face. That did it. His eyes rolled up and he hit the grass with a quiet thud.

She nudged him with her toe a little, wanting to make sure he was down for a while. When he just kind of flopped around, she was satisfied and headed back the way they'd come. She'd have to be quick about this, the guy had been tougher to knock out than she'd thought he'd be and probably wouldn't stay out for long.

She started her search with the tool shed since it was closest. The door was padlocked but with a quick yank that little obstacle fell away. The inside was freakishly neat - the groundskeepers must've been paranoid about not wanting to piss off their vampy boss. But that was the only thing worth noticing about it - no tortured, starved vamps in there.

Next stop was the pool house. She tried to make it there as stealthily as possible, but it was pretty much impossible given that there was nothing but open ground between the buildings. The door was unlocked and she slipped in easily. She could tell immediately that this wasn't were she'd find Bill. The inside had the musty smell of a place that had been closed up for a while. White sheets draped the furniture and a thin layer of dust had settled on the floor. It probably hadn't been used since the arrival of winter months ago.

Leaving the pool house with an irritated scowl, she jogged by the covered pool, then past her car and the four open garage bays to the fifth space where a door waited. If he wasn't in here, she'd have to check the main house, and that was something she _really_ didn't want to do. The potential for this becoming very messy rose exponentially if she had to sneak around a house full of vamps, supposedly defenseless during daylight hours or not.

She could smell it before she even opened the door. Blood. She felt little relief at knowing this was almost certainly where she'd find Bill, just grim determination and a sharp focus as she prepared to enter. The handle twisted easily under her hand and the door swung open silently. The smell of old blood and bodily fluids smacked her in the face and she had to hold back a gag. Breathing through her mouth she stepped inside, her eyes tracking the rust colored stains on the wooden floor to the figure in the middle of the room.

Even though she could only see the top of his blood matted hair, Buffy knew this had to be Bill. A single bare bulb lit the grisly scene, casting harsh shadows but still illuminating everything a little too well. He sat slumped over in a chair, silver chains wrapped around him and leaving charred burns in their path. He was filthy and blood splattered and burned, but she guessed he was alive (or still undead) since he wasn't a pile of dust.

Pulling her attention away from Bill, she took in the rest of the room. On the wall next to her were a ring of keys and a whole bunch of handy-dandy torture devices. There were no windows, but there were two doors. One was closed, but the other was open, showing a handful of cots with a man asleep on one of them.

Well, first things first - she needed to make sure that guy didn't wake up and start any trouble. She was almost to the door when she saw Bill's head jerk up out of the corner of her eye. The full view of his face almost made her cringe. He really was a mess. But his eyes burned as they watched her, filled with distrust. She held a finger up to her lips, hoping he'd keep his mouth shut, and turned her attention back to the sleeping man. Red stains were smeared around his mouth and splattered on his neck, making her feel better about what she was going to do.

But as she entered the room fully, she realized that there was actually another man in there, also sleeping. She stood for a moment, undecided. She didn't like the idea of leaving them here just sleeping. She'd intended to land a quick punch or two on the one guy, insuring his unconsciousness for a while, but with two in there, that wouldn't really work. Knocking out one would probably wake up the other. With a soft curse she backed out of the room, closing the door silently as she went. She'd just have to be as quiet as possible and hope they were out of it enough not to wake up. If not… well, she'd deal with that problem if she had to.

Turning back to Bill, she found him still watching her with some suspicion, but mixed in there was a dose of barely concealed hope as well. She made her way silently over and squatted down in front of him, whispering, "Sookie sent me". The tension leaked out of him, leaving him limp in the chair his head bobbing and eyes closing for a second. Not wanting to waste any more time, she grabbed the first lock holding the chains in place and broke it with a quick yank, then did the same to the other.

Glancing up and seeing the shocked look on Bill's face, she decided a distraction was in order.

"You're an idiot, you know that? I kinda wish this would happen to all cheaters…" She said, her voice still barely a whisper.

He flinched as if she'd hit him, his eyes skittering away from hers to the floor with guilt.

"She was going to come here, you know? To try and save you?"

She knew she was pouring salty Sookie guilt into his open wounds, but it made her so mad to think of him cheating on her, making such insulting plans as making sure she'd be 'taken care of', and her still being so intent on saving him. Okay, maybe she related a little too well to a vampire induced broken heart…

Pulling off the broken locks, she took in the effect of silver on the vampires of this dimension for the first time. The result was just gross. Where the chains touched skin, they had burned and kind of sunk in.

"Oh, man… this is gonna hurt," she mumbled, looking up to see Bill clenching his jaw, trying to prepare himself for what was coming.

Honestly, she didn't really try to be gentle. They didn't have time for coddling. But she did feel a little bad as she pulled the chains off. She tried to tell herself that ripping them off quick, like a band-aid, was the best way to go. That he'd heal up as soon as he got some blood in him. Plus, he was a cheating bastard. But as she gathered the chain she unwound, chunks of skin and blood clinging to it, those words didn't do much to keep the nausea at bay. Finally done, she let out a sigh of relief and lowered the length of chain to the ground almost silently.

"Okay, you just stay here and I'll-"

The door that had been closed, the one without the sleeping Weres behind it, suddenly opened, revealing a short blond vampire staring at her in shock, Buffy rocketed to her feet, grabbing Mr. Pointy as she went from where he'd been tucked in her sock. The vampire, seeing the stake, narrowed her eyes and entered the room cautiously, a nasty sneer appearing on her face now that the shock was gone.

"You must be his little human bitch whore," she said in heavily accented English. "He was fucking me, all this time, you understand. The minute he saw me, he forgot about you, except for pity."

Buffy rolled her eyes.

"Are you gonna brag about what a slut you are for much longer? I'm kinda in a hurry here."

The vamp launched herself with a snarl. It was a pathetic attempt though. Buffy wasn't sure if it was because it was daytime, or if she was just used to the speed she witnessed from Eric, Victor and Andre, but this chick seemed to be moving in slow-mo to her trained eyes. She easily spun out of the way, grabbing the vampire's arm as she went by and using her momentum to jerk her off balance, sending her crashing to the floor where Buffy immediately staked her.

With no poofing.

"Uh…" Buffy pushed the stake in a little further, but all that accomplished was some making some blood and other icky stuff gush out of the vampires mouth. Guess that answered her question about how vampires here died. "Ew… messy."

Yanking Mr. Pointy from the corpse, she sucked in a sharp breath at the blood and icky flaky bits sticking to the stake.

"Oh Mr. Pointy, you're all nasty! I promise a rub down with some disinfecting Pledge wipes when we get out of here…"

Ripping a part of the vampires shirt off, she wrapped her dirty stake up and stuck it back in her sock. She turned around to find Bill watching the whole thing with an expression of disbelief. She shrugged it off and headed for the door. She paused when she heard a snort coming from the other room and waited with bated breath to see if the Weres would come bursting out. To her relief, and surprise, they didn't. A snore came a moment later and Buffy resumed her trek to the door. If they hadn't woken up for that little scuffle, they probably weren't much to worry about, but she kept her voice to a whisper when she glanced back to Bill anyway.

"It's daylight so I'm going to go grab the blanket out of the trunk for you. I'll be right back."

Outside it had darkened more even though the sun had risen further. Dark storm clouds floated overhead and just as she popped the trunk a few fat raindrops started falling. She snatched the ugly comforter she'd stolen from her hotel room out of the back and hurried back inside. Bill was looking at the vampire she'd killed with a blank expression on his face. So that was… Lorie? Laney? No… Lorena! His maker. The one he'd left Sookie for. Lorena's words repeated in her head as she walked over and spread the blanket on the ground next to his chair. He didn't even look her way to see what was going on until she stepped around to the other side and blocked his view of the now kind of shrivel-y corpse. He blinked, looking up at her in a kind of daze.

She smiled at him and tipped his chair over, dumping him onto the blanket with a pained squawk.

"Shh, don't wanna wake the dogs," she said nodding toward the other room.

Moving the chair out of the way, she grabbed two diagonal corners and tied them up over Bill, who was still silent and watching the whole thing with a kind of stunned disbelief. He put up one shaking hand as she grabbed the two other corners.

"What-"

"The suns out. And you're all gross, you're not leaning on me. So be a good little vampire and go to sleep and I'll get you out of here."

She tied up the other corners over his gaping face and grabbed the knots, dragging him over the floor toward the door. All she needed was a big stick and should could dangle him off her shoulder like one of those hobo's walking along the train tracks. She smothered a giggle at the thought.

She had an urge to bang him against the doorframe a little on the way out, but restrained herself. She'd rather miss out on some retribution on behalf of Sookie's broken heart than risk waking the werewolves when they were so close to getting out.

The rain had started coming down heavily and in the time she took to stop and close the door behind her, she was already soaked. It didn't help her darkening mood any.

"Stupid men," she muttered, dragging the bundle toward the car. "Think there's always something better around the corner. Don't know how to appreciate what they have. No, they have to run off to L.A. and run evil law firms. Fall in love with bitchy brunettes with visions. Or pretend to be dead. Or run off to join some special military demon hunting squad. Bastards."

Reaching the trunk, she grabbed the knots with both hands and flung Bill inside. Answering his pained grunt with "Don't be a baby" and slamming the lid.

She pulled the car up toward the gate slowly, watching warily for the other guard. If he was as stupid as his partner, this wouldn't be a problem, but if he wasn't…

She put the car in park well back from the gatehouse to give herself time and space should she have to fight this guy. She waited and watched, the only sound that of the rain coming down in buckets and the swish of the windshield wipers.

She waited some more.

And a little longer.

"Screw this," she muttered, getting out of the car.

She barely noticed the cold rain beating down on her as her senses stretched out around her, trying to pinpoint any threats. Picking up on no immediate danger, she crept toward the gatehouse. Squatting down low by the open door, she peeked in. Only to see the same Were guard she'd seen on the way in, still asleep with his feet up on the control panel.

She huffed out an annoyed breath. She'd waited around and then gotten soaked just to find this tool still fast asleep. With an eye roll, she silently crept into the booth and looked over the panel. A button labeled "Main Gate" made things really easy for her. She poked the button, watching the guard as she did so, but the hiss of the rain completely covered the electric hum of the gate. The guy just kept on sleeping. Edgington's "security" was seriously pathetic. She couldn't help but compare Sophie-Anne's SWAT guarded estate to Edgington's weak Were guarded mansion as she hurried back to the car, squeezing it through the gate before it swung closed again. She would've felt bad for the King of Mississippi if she hadn't just rescued a torture victim from his grounds.

The drive to the apartment building Sookie was staying at was slow. Both because of the rain and because Buffy was being very careful of her driving. Being pulled over with a body in the trunk was definitely a complication she didn't need. It reminded her of leaving Threadgill's with Dennis's body. The thought of the nice kid that had died because of her still caused her a sharp pang of guilt and sadness.

She pulled up to yet another gate as she got to the parking garage of her goal. This guard barely looked more alert than the one sleeping at Edgington's. He walked up to her window with a bored expression.

"Pass?" He asked, cigarette dangling from a corner of his mouth, a hunk of ash falling off.

She held up a hundred dollar bill. He only looked at if for about half a second before taking it and opening the gate without a word.

She parked in the far back corner and hopped out, opening the back door and grabbing the paper bag with a six-pack of blood she'd stopped and gotten on her way back to the hotel last night. The bag she left in the backseat, the blood she took around to the trunk.

She'd just opened the trunk lid and sat the bottles down inside when a little tingle of Slayer awareness along with the sense of movement behind her warned her. She spun just in time to catch the hands coming toward her, obviously intending to shove her forward into the trunk. With lightning quick speed, she had both wrists locked in one hand and a hand around the throat of a black haired woman with wide shocked eyes on a long face.

"Can I help you?" Buffy asked, eyebrow raised.

"Thought you were someone else," she said, her voice rasping out with the little air Buffy was allowing her.

"Someone you'd want to shove into a trunk?"

She almost added "with a hungry vampire" but caught herself at the last moment. When word got out that Bill had gone missing or had escaped, she didn't want Sookie and her hunky guy friend with the weird name to be associated with it if she could help it.

"Bitch stole my man."

Buffy's eyes narrowed as she realized who she might've been confused with. To someone waiting around for a blond from out of town, Buffy, though more petite and with darker blond hair, would fit the bill with her rental car.

"Sookie? Was the girl you were looking to shove in that trunk named Sookie?" She asked, her voice low and furious.

She got her answer from the look of fear that came across the woman's face as she started struggling. Buffy just tightened her grip, her anger allowing the Slayer in her to bleed through. What if it _had_ been Sookie out there? Shoved into a trunk with a starved and tortured vampire? Buffy seriously doubted that even if he knew her he'd be able to resist a warm fresh meal after so long.

The woman's thrashing reached a fevered pitch and Buffy realized she was actually cutting off her air. She released her and pushed her away. Sookie's would-be assailant immediately doubled over, gulping down ragged breaths. Buffy took a step toward her and dark eyes snapped up to look at her in fear.

"I have serious doubts that Sookie 'stole your man', but even if she did, I don't care. You come near her again and you'll have me to deal with, got it?"

The woman didn't say anything, didn't nod or show that she understood at all, just took off. Buffy watched her go, trying not to think about how she'd just threatened and scared a stranger. Not to mention nearly choking her. She shook her head. It was just the adrenaline from this morning's activities - stacked up with no outlet. The woman had just picked the wrong time to show up. Besides, she could've killed Sookie with that little stunt. Buffy just hoped she'd scared her enough to keep her from trying something like that again.

Pushing it from her mind, she made sure the bottles of blood were where they couldn't be missed if Bill woke up before either her or Sookie got down there tonight, then shut the trunk and headed for the elevator. Up on the fifth floor, she found the apartment Eric had told her Sookie was staying in easily and knocked.

Sookie's date from the night before answered the door. Big, broad and shirtless. She made a mental note to tell Sookie that she was an idiot if she kept mooning over Cheater Bill and didn't take full advantage of the delicious scruffy werewolf.

"Help you?" He asked, making Buffy realize she'd been staring at his chest.

"Uh… Oh, yeah. I'm looking for Sookie."

"Buffy?" The blond in question's voice piped up from inside the apartment. Her head appeard second later, peeking around the guy's arm.

"Hey, Sookie," Buffy answered, giving a little wave.

"Come on in," the big guy said. What was his name again? Something to do with seeds, right?

Maybe she had "I'm trying to remember your name" face, because Sookie jumped right into introductions.

"Buffy, this is Alcide. Alcide, Buffy."

"Pleased to meet you, Buffy" he answered politely, his voice layered with a slow, syrupy southern accent.

A man that looked like that that had manners? She liked him already.

"Same here."

"So, did you find Bill?" Sookie asked, showing her mind was not on the handsome man she was sharing an apartment with.

"Yep, he's down in the garage sleeping in my trunk. You need better security, by the way," Buffy said, turning her gaze back to Alcide. "I was able to bribe the guard into letting me in, and I'm thinking an ex or maybe not-so-ex of yours did the same."

Sookie had ignored the last part of the sentence and was pulling on a sweater over her night clothes, heading for the door.

"Hey," Buffy said, snagging Sookie's arm as she went by. "I know you wanna see Bill, but… He's not looking or feeling so hot right now, maybe you should just let him sleep and get some blood in him. I left some with him in the trunk."

Sookie swallowed and gave a helpless little head shake. "It's not that I don't believe you, I just… I just have to see with my own eyes that he's safe. You understand?"

Buffy let go with a hesitant nod and watched her dash out the front door.

"One of us should go with her," Alcide said, watching her departure with concerned eyes.

"I know, I'll go. That chick might still be down there…"

"Debbie? Debbie was down there, is that what you were saying before?"

"I don't know her name. Black choppy hair, about this high," she said, measuring in the air with her hand. "Seemed to think someone was 'stealing her man'."

Alcide rubbed a hand across his face, stubble rasping under calloused fingers.

"Dammit. We broke up a while ago. She's getting married for chrissakes."

"Yeah, well maybe you wanna explain to her using small words that it's over, because she has it out of Sookie because of you. She tried to shove me in the trunk when I was putting Bill's blood back there, thinking I was her. Can you imagine what would've happened if Sookie'd gotten locked in the trunk with a hungry vampire?"

Alcide's face darkened. "I'll talk to her." Then he looked at her closely, face questioning. "How is it that she didn't knock _you_ in the trunk? Debbie's pretty fast."

"I'm not like most girls," Buffy answered with a half smile and a wink.

"I'm starting to get that," Alcide answered with a grin of his own.

_Crap! Stop flirting with Sookie's potential new man, Buffy!_

"Okay then, I'm off to check on Sookie," she said, making a quick exit before she started drooling over his chest.

She found Sookie down in the garage, looking into the open trunk with a hand over her mouth. When she heard Buffy approaching, she turned to look at her, tears in her eyes.

"Look at- what did they-"

"He'll heal," Buffy said.

"Yes, but-"

"He got himself into that situation, Sookie."

She knew she sounded coldhearted, but after hearing Lorena go on about how he ran after her and how they'd been sleeping together, she couldn't find much pity in her for him.

"Was she there? Lorena?" Sookie asked, blinking back tears. Buffy couldn't help but wonder if she'd managed to pick up Lorena's name from her from her mind, prompting her to ask.

"Yep. She didn't like that I was letting her little play toy go. Got staked for her trouble."

Sookie just stared at her for a minute, eyes wide. "You killed her?"

"Uh, yeah," Buffy said, suddenly feeling a little uncertain. Maybe she shouldn't have told her that…

"Good," Sookie said, her voice hard, surprising Buffy. "It's what she deserves for betraying him."

"And what's he deserve for betraying you?"

Sookie gave a humorless little laugh. "I think he's paid enough for that decision, don't you?"

She couldn't really argue with that, instead, she leaned forward and shut the trunk lid, herding Sookie back toward the elevator.

"On to more tasty subjects, that Alcide is one yummy piece of eye candy."

Sookie blushed slightly. "He is, isn't he… If it weren't for the timing…"

"I'm not saying jump right into a relationship with him, seems like both of you are on the rebound. But life is short, especially life around vampires and werewolves, so… just don't hold onto the past for too long, alright?"

Sookie didn't answer, but she had a thoughtful look on her face as they waited for the elevator. Back upstairs, Buffy was relieved to see Alcide had put a shirt on. He was also cooking. Her stomach rumbled loudly, making itself heard over the sizzling of bacon.

"You want orange juice or coffee with your breakfast, Buffy?" Alcide asked with an amused smile while Sookie seemed to be fighting off a fit of giggles.

"Oh, I couldn't intrude-"

"Don't be silly," Sookie said. "You're stuck without a car until Bill rises, so you should stay here until then."

Buffy wanted to argue, she really _didn't_ want to intrude, but she didn't want to walk back to her hotel in the rain either. Plus, Sookie was right, she wouldn't have her car back until sundown, then she'd have to come back over here to get it anyway.

_But then Eric will be up, _the part of her that felt like an embarrassed middle schooler whined. She still wasn't sure she was ready to see him again, let alone ride back to Louisiana together.

Sighing she let Sookie usher her into the bathroom where she gave her some dry clothes. She took a quick, scorching hot shower to chase off the chill from the rain (along with Mr. Pointy who got scrubbed thoroughly) and wandered back out ten minutes later with a towel wrapped around her head. Taking a seat at the small dining room table, she smiled softly as she watched Sookie help Alcide with breakfast, the two moving seamlessly around the small kitchen like an old married couple.

The food was delicious. Greasy and fattening and artery clogging, but delicious. The atmosphere was relaxed and comfortable. Buffy waited until they were all done to bring up the less than pleasant business.

"We should all get out of here as soon as the sun sets," she said, getting both their attention. "When the vamps wake up and find out Bill's gone they'll start searching. We should be as far from here as we can be by then."

Both Alcide and Sookie sat back in their chairs, almost in unison - their faces pensive. To both their credit, neither asked any questions or complained. Alcide just said he was going out to finish up the business he had in town and Sookie just nodded and said she'd be ready to go when it was time.

Buffy insisted on doing the dishes, since the other two had cooked, but Sookie ended up helping her anyway. Making small talk about Alcide's sister and her brother and her job at a bar. Buffy tried to keep up with the conversation, but after no sleep last night, a morning rescue and a big fattening breakfast, she was dragging. As soon as Sookie disappeared into the bathroom, Buffy flopped down on the couch and was asleep in seconds.

She woke up to Bubba's face inches from her own.

She blinked at him for a second, her instincts told her she wasn't in any danger, she didn't feel like he was about to attack her or anything. But her memory of his berserker rage at The Dead Gator made her a little edgy anyway.

"Hey there, Bubba, anybody ever talk to you about personal space?"

"Sure didn't, Miss Buffy," he said with a good natured smile.

Seemingly pleased with waking her up, he straightened and went to sit in the chair next to the couch.

"Uh, so I'm guessing it's night time…"

"Yeah, we were just about to wake you," Alcide said, coming in from the hall with a duffle bag.

Buffy sat up and stretched a little, her neck popping as she rolled it. She was surprised she'd slept so long.

"Sookie? Bill?" She asked, wanting to catch up on what she'd missed while she'd been out.

"Bubba saw to Bill when he got here, brought him up here after he'd had his blood. They're talking. Or he's talking, she's ignoring him," Alcide said with a little twitch of his lips.

As if on cue, the two came out of a bedroom down the hall - Bill looking miserable but much healthier and Sookie looking unmoved as she carried a garment bag into the living room.

"You're up," she remarked with a bright smile that looked a little forced to Buffy. "I wasn't sure if I should wake you earlier, I thought maybe you had other stuff to get done, but you just looked like you needed the rest."

"It's fine. My bag's already packed, I just have to stop by the hotel and grab it."

"Oh good. I'm sorry, do you know Bubba?" Sookie asked, her southern etiquette shining through.

"Sure do," Bubba said. "Just met yesterday. You have fun with Mr. Eric last night, Miss Buffy?"

Caught off guard by the mention of Eric, Buffy blurted, "What? Fun? No. No fun was being had. Why would you say that? Where'd you hear that? There wasn't a tape, was there? Oh my god, it was on the news wasn't it? I swear I was gonna send that guy some money for the window."

Her burst of panicked babble was met by silence and staring.

"Uh…"

A knock at the door saved her from trying to explain that blob of word vomit.

"Speak of the devil and he shall appear," Alcide said, turning toward the door with a scowl.

Buffy's relief at the interruption melted away quickly.

Eric had arrived.


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter Nineteen**

There comes a point when embarrassment gets heaped so high that your mortification sensor just kind of shorts out. Overload. Buffy thought she'd reached this point when Alcide opened the door to reveal Eric grinning right at her. The amused look on his face leaving no doubt that he'd heard every rambling word she'd just uttered.

Then he had to go and say, "There is no tape. Do you think I'd allow some store keeper to see you like that? I don't share well." Proving that she hadn't quite reached the limit yet.

"And what happened to your hair?"

Ahh, there it was…

She turned and walked out of the room without a word.

In the bathroom she saw what Eric had meant about her hair. Since it had been wet when she fell asleep, it had dried in wavy clumps, the right side plastered to her head and the left lifted in a knotted cow lick.

Great.

A knock at the door shook her from her critical staring match with her reflection. She opened it with a jerk, ready to punch Eric in his smug face if he so much as mentioned broken windows, tapes or her hair again. Instead she found Sookie, a little wide eyed from the door whipping open so fast, but holding out a brush like an offering.

"Oh thank god," Buffy gushed.

A few minutes later, she had her hair tamed back into a ponytail. Not a very flattering ponytail, but better than it had been. Turning back to the door, she saw Sookie was waiting again, this time with a bottle of Listerine and a little paper cup.

"I think I love you," Buffy said seriously, making Sookie laugh.

"Is that the way to win your affections?" Eric asked with a teasing grin, appearing in the hall behind Sookie out of nowhere. "Because I can-"

Buffy slammed the door.

After getting her mouth as clean as she could without a toothbrush (nothing like having vampires around with their super sense of smell to make a person ultra-paranoid about morning- well, just-waking-up breath), she headed back out to the living room to find that Bubba had disappeared and that driving arrangements were the topic on the table.

"Buffy can ride with me," Eric was saying. "Bill can take her car and Alcide can take Sookie."

Buffy opened her mouth to veto that idea, but Bill got there first.

"That's not practical," Bill said, staring coldly at Eric. "Buffy can take her own car. You and Herveaux are both going to Shreveport and Sookie and I are both going to Bon Temps."

"True. But you're ignoring the crucial fact that Sookie would rather ride with Alcide and not have to look at you for a few hours," Eric answered, his bluntness actually getting a surprised laugh out of Buffy before she smothered it, getting a fangy grin from him and a scowl from Bill.

"Well, I need to hand in that rental and pick up a new car waiting for me. So that takes me out of the equation," Buffy said, feeling partially relieved and partially disappointed that she had to go pick up the new untraceable car. "How about Bill and Eric ride together and Alcide takes Sookie home."

Neither Bill or Eric looked happy about his, Alcide was nodding and Sookie looked torn.

"You have to get a new car - fine," Eric said. "I'll go with you. Bill can take my car and Alcide and Sookie can go together."

"But I'm not going to Shreveport," Buffy said.

"Then neither am I."

It seemed that Eric was really determined to get his way, and Buffy's heart really wasn't in fighting it.

"Whatever," she said with a shrug. "Let's get going, we've hung around here long enough. Edgington'll have his people combing for Bill pretty soon."

Alcide grabbed up Sookie's bags and led her out of the apartment, the blond tossed Bill an unreadable look before her eyes drifted over to Buffy.

"Oh! Wait," she said, running over to the little side table and grabbing a pen and notepad from it. "Here, this is my number, Buffy. Call me if you ever need anything. Or if you're in town or something."

She gave Buffy a quick hug, whispering a low "thank you" and then rushed out of the room after Alcide. Buffy smiled a little as she tucked the paper into the pocket of her borrowed sweatshirt. For someone new to this dimension, she thought she was doing pretty well in the new friend department. She really couldn't ask for better company than Rasul, Amelia and Sookie.

Then there was Eric… Who was currently watching her with a raised eyebrow. Seeing he had her attention, he gestured toward the door.

"Wait," Bill said, striding over to Buffy. She saw Eric tense out of the corner of her eye. "I just wanted to say... Thank you."

The words were stiff and stilted and his eyes were looking over her shoulder. Buffy got the feeling that even though he might be genuinely happy to be free, he didn't really like her and didn't like the fact that he owed her. That was fine with her, she felt the same way.

"I didn't do it for you. But your welcome anyway," she said briskly, walking toward the door. She stopped in the doorway and glanced back at him over her shoulder. "If I come to visit Bon Temps and find her crying over you again…"

She let the threat hang and turned back down the hall. She heard the jangle of keys and Eric saying something about sending someone for the car later, then he was right there next to her, waiting for the elevator.

"I thought Bill would be more gracious," Eric said as the elevator arrived, not really sounding judgmental, more curious.

"That might have something to do with the fact I tied him up in a blanket like a baby in a papoose. Well, usually you don't drag your baby across the floor and throw it in a trunk. Unless you, like, hate your baby," Buffy rambled as the elevator descended. "Me killing that bitchy maker of his might also have his panties in a bunch."

"You killed Lorena?" Eric's voice was sharper, less inquisitive and more focused.

The doors to the elevator dinged open and they stepped out into the garage, the smell of Alcide's big truck's exhaust still permeating the air. Neither of their steps made any noise as they crossed the garage to Buffy's rental.

"She came at me, didn't have much choice."

"Oh, I'm not criticizing your decision," Eric said. "I have no doubt she would've forced you into such an action. Lorena wasn't well known for her diplomacy,"

Buffy cast a look up at his face, wondering if he was just placating her, trying to prove he was on her side. But his face as he glanced back at her looked sincere, if not a little amused. But he always seemed to be a bit entertained by everything. Like the world was a show for his enjoyment and the rest of them were just players in the game.

The attitude reminded her a little of Angelus, minus the malevolent edge. In an enemy, there was nothing more infuriating than someone that thought everything you did, every move you made against them, was amusing. But in an ally, she found it refreshing. That levity in the face of death and evil was something Xander and Willow had offered that kept her sane (though that had dwindled over the years with the more they'd seen - the more they'd done), and she found she liked that about Eric. He hadn't questioned her decisions over how to go about rescuing Bill once, just went with the flow of things and watched with interest as they played out. She was sure there would be times when she'd be less charitable about his lack of gravity, but for now, it was welcome.

Stepping around a concrete column, her study of Eric's personality quirks was quickly forgotten when she came in view of her rental car.

The trunk looked like it had been peeled up with a can opener.

"Bubba," they both said in unison.

"He's fond of Bill, he must have gotten a little over excited about finding him."

Ignoring the laughter in Eric's words, she walked up to the trunk and tried to bend the metal back into a slightly more trunk-like shape.

"You wouldn't think it was so funny if _you_ were the one that had to explain to Sophie-Anne about how you messed up _another_ car."

After bending another corner down with a screech of metal she turned to find Eric watching intently, his eyes shining oddly in the low light of the garage. She didn't understand why he looked so enthralled - he knew that she was strong already. He'd seen her kick Victor out of a window, been knocked out by her himself and felt the strength in her arm as he kept her from staking the bastard out on Threadgill's lawn.

"That's probably true," he said, his nonchalant shrug at odds with his bright eyes. "But since I don't, I can laugh about it."

"You can if you want to get the Bill treatment and ride in the trunk all the way to New Orleans."

"Oh, if I was going in the trunk, I'd make sure you were in there with me," he said, giving her a naughty smile over the roof of the car before he slid into the passenger seat.

Buffy's mouth suddenly felt kinda dry as she thought about what being trapped in a small space with Eric would be like. Then she realized that's exactly what was about to happen - her and Eric in a car for two and a half hours.

"Already off to a great start," she mumbled, getting in the driver's seat.

The drive to her hotel was spent mostly in comfortable silence. Well, Eric looked comfortable anyway - lazed back in his seat as he watched the scenery go by. Buffy wasn't quite so laid back about the whole thing. Eric's presence filled the car edge to edge, fraying her Slayer senses as they tried to adjust. And to match his presence was his giant body, sprawled in the seat with an animal grace few could accomplish. Long jean clad legs stretched out as much as the car would allow, one arm on the console and the other on the door, forearm spanning the length under the window and his tee shirt stretching across his broad chest. Already the whole car was starting to smell like him - clean but almost spicy.

"So," Buffy said, then paused to clear her throat. "What do you do in Shreveport? Do you spend all your time Sherriffing or what?"

Small talk didn't seem like it'd be in someone like Eric's repertoire, but he played along, much to her relief. As he told her a little about his bar, some of the tension leaked out of her shoulders and the atmosphere in the car felt less charged. She cracked a window, letting the moist cool air in and diluting the sexy smell of him.

"So you and your vampire employees just sit around in the bar and let people gawk at you?"

"They come to see vampires and so they do. It's actually very profitable."

"I can't imagine sitting around so people can stare at me all night," Buffy said, making a face at the thought.

"Some like the attention more than others," he conceded with a half grin at her.

"I'm sure you're one of the ones that love it," she said. "Sitting around and getting fawned over. I bet the girls can't get enough of you."

She meant the words sincerely, he probably did draw quite a crowd - but the bitter spike of jealousy that went through her after she said it surprised her. He probably had women throwing themselves at his feet every night. Staring at him, fantasizing about him…

"They come, get their thrill by living a night on the wild side. Take pictures and giggle. Nothing about them interests me but the money they spend while they do so," he said as if he knew what she was thinking and was trying to sooth her sudden annoyance.

She blushed, realizing that's probably _exactly_ what had happened. He could probably read her like an open book. Bastard.

Luckily, the motel popped up on her right just then, stopping the flood of embarrassed babble she could feel forming. A back tire hit the curb as she whipped the car into the lot and she narrowly missed the sign with the front fender. Eric looked like he was trying not to laugh.

"I'll be right back," she said, not meeting his eyes as she dug the room key from the middle console and jumped out of the car.

The night felt a little warmer than the one before, but while the rain had stopped, a fine mist still hung in the air. It clung to her hair and on her eyelashes as she jogged to the stairs, then up to the second floor to her room. The motel was a simple "L" shaped, two story building - a far cry from the luxury she'd been given on her last excursions for the Queen, but it didn't bother her. She'd draw less attention in a place like this one than somewhere more expensive.

She stopped at her room at the elbow of the "L" and unlocked the door. As soon as she stepped inside she knew something was wrong, but by then it was too late.

The smell of wet dog, human sweat and old beer hit her at the same time a pair of arms wrapped around her from behind, pinning her arms to her sides as hot, rancid breath washed over the back of her neck.

"Got you now, bitch," whoever grabbed her said.

Another person stepped forward from the back left corner of the room and one more came out of the bathroom. The last one had a bald head, two black eyes and a wide swath of bandages around his right wrist.

Great. Dirty Pervy Mr. Clean and his buddies had already tracked her down.

"So this little girly kicked your ass?" The Were on the left asked. He was taller and wider than Baldy, with a thick beard and mean little beady eyes.

"Fuckin' cocktease is stronger than she looks," Baldy said, looking angrier by the second.

Bearded Guy snorted. "You're just a fuckin' pussy, Earl. Now listen little girl, we're going to ask you some questions and you're gonna answer, got it? If you don't we're gonna hurt you, if you do… well, we're still gonna hurt you."

During his little pep talk, Bearded Guy had been moving closer - a nasty smile peeking through the mountain of hair on his face. Buffy, in the meantime, hadn't really been listening. She'd been more wondering if these stooges had let anyone else know where she was staying or if they were trying to earn back some points with the boss by taking care of it themselves. Given how stupid they were, it was probably the latter, but she since she didn't know for sure if a bunch of vamps were on their way, she needed to take care of this quick.

As soon as Bearded Guy, still going on about something or other, got close enough, Buffy whipped her head back, delivering a sharp head-butt to the stinky guy behind her. At the same time, she yanked her legs up, then snapped them forward, catching Bearded Guy in the chest and sending him backwards where he hit the doorframe next to Baldy with a crack as wood and drywall buckled under the force.

The guy behind her, already disoriented from the head-butt, was thrown completely off balance when she shifted her weight completely onto him. The impact of her kicking Bearded Guy was the last straw, toppling him and taking her down with him.

She up and rolling to her feet in a heartbeat, giving Stinky a quick elbow to the temple and a jab to the stomach as she went, leaving him limp and still on the floor. She'd barely gotten up when a big meaty fist crashed into her face. She stumbled back a step and shook off the blow, ignoring the blood coursing down her chin from her busted lip.

Baldy was the one that had hit her. Fair enough, she supposed. After all, she'd already hit him a bunch of times earlier in the day. He came at her again, his face fixed in a furious snarl. She dodged his first swing and came back with her own, but it was thrown off course by Bearded Guy, who had tackled her from the side. The two of them crashed through the flimsy motel door out onto the upper walkway.

Meaty hands clawed at her throat as she tried to get a good grip on him, rank snarling breath washing over her face. Finally, she wedged her legs up between them and shoved, sending him up and off her - right into the railing. Her eyes went wide as she watched the backs of his legs hit the metal handrail and he toppled backwards over the side.

Horrified, she lurched to her feet and looked over the edge at the man sprawled below. On leg was bent under him at an angle legs just weren't meant to go and blood was pooling under his head.

Oh god, had she just killed him?

So stunned at what she'd just done, she didn't notice her instincts pinging away at the danger coming up behind her until it was almost on top of her. Whirling around, she saw Baldy coming at her fast, a switchblade in hand. She raised her arm to block the strike mechanically. Instinct taking over as she yanked him forward, slamming his head into the railing his buddy had just gone over and knocking him out. But there was no thought in it, her attention was all focused on finding out if she'd just killed the man she'd sent careening over the railing.

Turning to look back down at the parking lot, her shoulder bumped into something and she glanced over to see it was Eric's chest. For once, the sight wasn't a welcome one.

"Move," she said, shoving him a little. "That guy- I-"

"He's alive," Eric said. His voice sounded strange, but she was too busy peering back over the edge at the Were to pay it much attention.

"Are you sure?" She asked doubtfully. He didn't look very alive…

"Weres are like cockroaches - it's almost impossible to kill one on accident. Even when you're trying, you have to put a little effort into it."

Now that she was a little calmer, she could see the rise and fall of the guy's chest if she really looked. She let out a gusty sigh of relief.

"Oh good, I was so afraid I'd killed him."

"Your sense of morality is becoming a problem. These men would've killed you, you understand? They would've tortured you and killed you."

"I know but… they're just people, right? People who can turn into wolves… I can't-"

"You are infuriating," he interrupted, his voice harsh as he grabbed her shoulders and pulled her to him, forcing her eyes from the scene below.

"What are you-"

Before she could get the question out, Eric had ducked his head and suddenly she felt the slide of his tongue against the front of her throat, working his way slowly up the to the underside of her chin.

Her breath stuttered to a halt at the sensation, the nearness of him. Not to mention the confusion. It took her Eric addled brain a second to put two and two together and realize he was following the path the blood from her split lip had made.

"Oh no, this is _not _snack time," she said, putting her hands on his chest and getting ready to push him away. But by then he'd followed the path to its source, sucking her bottom lip in-between his own and caressing the already healing cut with his tongue.

Once again she lost her train of thought. It was only when his tongue, spiced with her own blood, slipped in her mouth that she regained her senses.

"Stop doing that," she hissed, shoving away and wishing she sounded less breathy. "We have to go, more could be on the way."

"Let them come," he said, his voice low and rough, his eyes gleaming in the low light as he reached for her again.

She deftly avoided him and walked swiftly back into her room, snatching up her bag and the items the Weres had pulled out, probably in a search for her identity, then marching right back out past Eric, heading for the stairs. Sirens wailed in the distance and she had no doubt they were headed here. At least she knew that guy she'd flung over the railing would get some medical attention.

Eric was already back in the car when she got there. His lighthearted manner was gone and he was watching her, his expression unreadable.

"What?" She asked, starting the car and determinedly keeping her eyes on the road, not letting them wander to him.

He was silent for so long that she didn't think he'd answer, but finally he gave a quiet "nothing" that was total bull. Deciding he was probably just pouting from the fact his caveman seduction got shot down, Buffy let him sulk and dug the cell phone out from under her seat (running up on the sidewalk and sideswiping a telephone pole while she did so). Finding the phone and the number she wanted, she yanked the car back on the right side of the road and listened to the tinny ringing on the other end.

"Yes?"

Buffy's lip curled in distaste at the voice on the other end, but answered in an overly sweet tone anyway.

"Andre, it's so nice to hear your voice again."

"You have news?" He asked blandly

"I do."

"Tell me."

"No. Put Sophie-Anne on."

A beat of silence.

"You insolent-"

"I'm sorry … phones … out. Better hurry or … tell her."

She could see Eric grinning from the corner of her eye, his pensive mood fading as he listened to her antagonizing Andre. Must not be a fan either. Or maybe he just liked it when others were suicidally disrespectful to people in positions of power. If that were the case, it was no wonder he liked following her around.

Silence lingered on the other end of the line and she wondered if Andre was trying to wait her out. Then there was a barest shuffling sound and Sophie-Anne spoke.

"Buffy, what did you say to Andre? I haven't seen him look so angry in centuries."

"He just doesn't like me. I think the sound of my voice is enough to make him cranky," Buffy answered vaguely, waving her hand as if Sophie-Anne could see it and nearly hitting a guard rail in the process. She sent a sheepish look over at Eric, but he didn't seem to mind at all. If anything, he looked like he was having fun. Talk about mood swings…

"So, anyway, you were right, Edgington was up to something," she said, watching for the road the rental car agency was on while she tried to piece together lies and truth. "He's planning on kidnapping Bill Compton and probably Sookie as leverage. I think they were planning on using his maker to get their hands on him, but uh, I kinda staked her, so that plan's out. Still, you should get some people to Bon Temps to make sure things are okay. He hired Weres to do his work during the day too, so tell whoever you send to watch out for them."

Silence settled over the car and over the line. Buffy shot a nervous glance at Eric, trying to gage how the lie came out by his reaction. He looked a little impressed, so she was hopeful.

"Were you seen by any of his people?" Sophie-Anne asked.

"Yeah, a couple of the Weres. But none of the vampires."

"Very well. I'll make sure of Bill and Sookie's safety. Make sure you're not followed on your way back to New Orleans, Buffy. I'd rather not have you traced as my employee right after you've killed someone," Sophie-Anne said dryly before hanging up.

Buffy bit her lip as she stuck the phone in the pocket on the door. "Think she bought it?"

"I do," Eric answered. "She would've asked more questions, tried to back you into a corner, if she hadn't. There's just one thing-"

A ringing from his pocket interrupted him and he gave her a mocking smirk as he pulled it free, not even glancing at the ID before he answered.

"Your Highness, what a pleasant surprise."

What the… Why was Sophie-Anne calling Eric?

"That's troubling news. I'll check into it immediately," he was saying. "Of course, of course. Rest assured, any interlopers will be dealt with swiftly."

Oh yeah… Eric was in charge of the area Bill and Sookie lived in, wasn't he? Whoops…

After thanking her (for no reason Buffy could discern), Eric disconnected and made another call. Buffy eavesdropped shamelessly as she turned right on a side road and made her way toward the rental agency. She listened as he spoke to someone named Pam and told her to check on Sookie and to take some people with her, her teeth gritting together as he told her to "deal with" any intruders.

She wasn't naïve, she knew that this would happen. She also had no illusions that Eric was a fine upstanding citizen with flawless morals or that his hands were clean of blood. Just as she knew that Sophie-Anne or Bill or even Rasul had surly killed people before. If Eric's people found Edgington's people in Bon Temps, it was because they were there to kidnap, torture and kill. Not exactly a crowd that deserved mercy. And it certainly wasn't her place to dictate how he dealt with it. But it didn't make it any easier to digest.

Her mouth tasted like ash as parked at the rental at the agency. She got out without a word to him, grabbing the phone and her bag and tossing the keys in the drop box as she passed the building. Eric didn't seem too concerned with her silence. He just seemed fascinated as he followed her to a waiting airport shuttle, looking around in curiosity as they took their seats. Or maybe he was just respecting she was fighting with her conscience and was trying to let her to work things out in peace. It was hard to tell with him.

The quiet remained as they got off at the departures entrance and veered off toward the parking garage. Buffy found a plain black Honda Accord in the designated spot and felt around in the wheel-well, finding a little magnetic box with a key stuck inside.

"Very cloak and dagger," Eric said as he slid into the seat beside her.

"Hmm."

"You're angry."

"Not really," she said, pulling out of the space and following the signs to the exit. "It's not you. It's me."

"Just what every man wants to hear."

Buffy gave him a ghost of a smile in answer, her conscience still in knots.

"You're bothered that there might be werewolves in Bon Temps, that my people will kill them," he stated, not asked. "But if it were only vampires, you wouldn't feel the same. Why is that?"

Once again his lack of judgment on something that seemed so discriminatory against what he was baffled her. It also made her feel about two inches tall.

"Weres are just people most of the time. I mean, they got bit and they changed, but they're still people…" She said, feeling stupid at her inability to explain that it completely went against her grain to kill anything human. And feeling bad that vampires didn't really fit into that category to her.

Silence settled over the car. She glanced over, thinking she'd finally offended him, but she just found him staring at her with his eyebrows raised.

"Actually, no, they're not. What you just described isn't a werewolf, it's a vampire. Vampires become what they are by either being bit numerous times or by sharing blood. Weres are born as they are. They're the wolf all of the time. More animal than human."

"They don't get turned by being bitten?" Buffy asked, completely thrown. "They're not cursed?"

"I guess that's a matter of opinion, but they're not innocent victims as you seem to be making them out to be. They make their own choices as to how they live. They're quick tempered and lean toward violence, but its more of a trait, not like a vampire's compulsion for blood. It's much easier for a Were to lead a regular life than a vampire. The ones that work for Edgington made the choice to do so, they weren't forced."

His words echoed around in her head as she got on the freeway and headed back toward Louisiana. She'd been thinking things in this dimension were much more complicated - a lot more grey area. But the truth of the matter was that the supernatural creatures here weren't much different from regular humans. They had their own trials and tribulations and they decided what to make of it. Maybe they were just as capable of good and evil as anyone else…

Her tumultuous thoughts settled as she swerved around a semi and squeezed between a pickup truck and sedan, having to slam on her brakes and then gas it to avoid a collision. The truck driver leaned on his horn and the sedan driver gave her the finger as she went by.

"Sorry," she mumbled sheepishly with a glance at Eric. "Thought I had more room there…"

"Don't apologize. I like your driving," he said with a grin full of fang.

With her doubts temporarily suspended, the rest of the trip was relaxed and fun. Eric asked to hear more about Buffy flinging Bill around in the blanket papoose and the details of her adventure at Edgington's estate and Buffy got to hear all about Pam and more about Fangtasia (of course she had to tease him unmercifully over that name). By the time Buffy pulled into the parking garage of her apartment building, she was actually wishing the trip had been longer.

This time when he kissed her, he didn't grab at her, just leaned in slowly over the console. And instead of it ending with roaming hands or her shoving him away, he was the one that pulled back, leaving her wishing for more.

In the low light of the garage, his face looked softer, less like a beautiful statue of a warrior and more like a man. The amusement was gone, replaced by something more genuine and maybe a little confused. It was a good look on him, one that made her want to kiss him again.

And she would have if Rasul hadn't jerked him out of the passenger seat right then_._


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter Twenty**

"He just yanked him out of the car?" Amelia asked, leaning forward over the table in rapt attention.

Buffy nodded, fishing another cheese puff out of the bag between them and popping it in her mouth.

"Yep, then-"

A knock at the door to the little back room they were sitting in interrupted her and she finished chewing her puff as she watched a girl with long dark hair poke her head in. Amelia's eyes never left Buffy, silently begging her to forget the intrusion and continue dishing out the dirt.

"Amelia, your five o'clock is here," the girl said, then disappeared back into the store.

"Looks like we'll have to finish this later," Buffy said, grabbing up the bag of cheesy goodness and brushing few stray crumbs off the table.

"What? Wait! You can't just leave me hanging like that! Then what happened?"

"Don't let your client hear you say that. You're supposed to be the one that already knows what happened, remember Fortune Girl?"

"Reading a fortune doesn't mean I know exactly what has, or will, happen," Amelia said, but she kept her voice low and threw a glance at the door anyway.

"You can hear the rest of my drama later," Buffy said, grabbing her coat off the back of her chair with the hand not holding the puffs and heading out of the back room. "It's not worth losing business over."

"Hey, do you have plans tonight?" Amelia called right as Buffy reached the door, her voice hesitant, almost shy.

Buffy only needed to think about it for a fraction of a second. She hadn't had plans for the past three weeks she'd been back in New Orleans, why would tonight be any different?

Oh yeah, it was New Years…

"Nope," she said morosely, lamenting her lack of social life. "None at all."

Christmas had even come and gone with out any kind of big to-do. She'd thought about going home, even though she hadn't been back in this world yet for the required amount of time or whatever before she was allowed to dimension hop again, but decided against it. She didn't really have anywhere to go. Dawn had told her on her last visit that she was going to spend Christmas with her boyfriend's family in Florence. She was sure Willow and Kennedy would be together where ever they were. And even though she loved Xander and Giles dearly, she doubted there'd be much celebrating at Slayer Central. So, she'd just decided to stay. She could just send them all belated gifts on her next visit.

Thinking of gifts brought to mind the beautiful flowers Eric had sent her for Christmas - two dozen roses mixed with holly. There'd also been a little gift basket with Listerine, a brush and a pack of ponytail holders, which had made her laugh and kept a smile on her face for days afterwards.

Rasul, even though things were still a little strained between them, had brought over a little tree and an ass-load of decorations, then stayed to help her decorated it. A peace offering of sorts that she'd greatly appriciated. So Christmas hadn't been a complete wash.

New Years however…

"Well, I'm… well, I could kinda use your help on something I'm working on if you're not busy," Amelia said, pulling her out of her thoughts.

"Sure, sure, you just want the rest of the dirt," Buffy answered with a grin.

"That too," Amelia smiled back. "Meet me here at dark?"

"Kay," she said, tossing a wave over her shoulder as she stepped out of the room. "See ya then."

She passed Amelia's client on the way out, an austere looking grey haired woman that looked like she would not have been happy if she'd had to wait. Buffy gave her a wide berth and went up to the counter, handing the bag of cheesy puffs to the dark haired cashier.

"Why don't you keep these back there, Melanie. They can keep you and Amelia from going comatose when things get slow."

"Thanks, Buffy," Melanie said with a laugh, tucking the bag behind the counter.

"No prob," she said, giving the girl a wave and turned away.

The Genuine Magic Shop had become a haunt for Buffy for the last few weeks since she'd returned from Jackson. Sophie-Anne, not happy that Buffy had been seen by Edgington's people, who were "running around like their ant hill got kicked" according to Eric, had put Buffy on a kind of house arrest. She wasn't to leave the city until things had settled. So that gave her some time to get back to the magic shop and pay the witch a visit.

Amelia had been over the moon excited to see her - blasting her with questions about the other dimension and what had happened. Buffy had answered… _very carefully_. She liked Amelia, but she wasn't ready to tell her the other dimension she'd been to was actually the one she was from. She settled on just saying it was almost exactly like this one. She'd also left out that she could travel there by will now that she had the ring (a ring she made sure to take off and tuck in her pocket whenever she visited in case Amelia could recognize it for what it was), just told her she'd found a witch there that helped her get back.

She'd just gotten to the point of trusting the other girl enough to get into more personal things. Like the fight with Eric and Rasul. She hadn't told her they were vampires yet, but it was still nice to have someone to talk to about it. Especially since things with Rasul were so weird these days.

She gave a little growl at the thought and a lady passing her with her dog yelled at it and apologized, thinking it had been the one that growled. Great, now she was getting innocent dogs in trouble… But really it was hard not to growl when she thought about the events in the parking garage when she'd gotten back.

After Buffy had watched Eric get yanked from his seat, she'd sat there for a full five seconds gaping like a fish at the empty space. A vicious snarl and an impact against the side of car that had sent it rocking had been what spurred her into movement. Out of the car she'd found Rasul, fangs out and looking furious as he stared at Eric. The amused smirk that he seemed to carry everywhere had still played on Eric's face as he stared back, but the look in his eyes and the feeling in the air around him told that he was a hair's breath away from violence.

"Northman, you do _not_ have permission to be in this city," Rasul had said, his voice nearly unintelligible with fury. His fangs out so far they were dimpling his lower lip when he spoke.

Eric had then commented that as a lowly guard, it wasn't Rasul's place to question the movements of a Sherriff. Which had prompted Buffy to get between them and blurt out that Eric had come with her after helping with a job. Rasul had shot back that "helping with a job" didn't involve fucking in a parking garage. Buffy had been too shocked to say anything to that, but Eric hadn't had that problem. He'd stepped up behind her, the heat of his fury beating against her back as he'd hissed, "Watch how you speak to my future lover".

It seemed like bloodshed was imminent after that declaration, but Buffy, finally finding her tongue had vowed to kick both their asses if they started fighting again. And she'd meant it wholeheartedly. Both had still seemed pissed, but neither was willing to make a move with her between them. When Rasul had turned away, saying he'd talk to the Queen about this, Buffy had sent an alarmed, then apologetic, look at Eric, mouthing "I'll take care of this", before rushing off to intercept Rasul.

He'd still been furious, but she'd managed to coax him into not going to the Queen about Eric. He'd looked so torn when he realized that saying something would get her in trouble as well - Rasul was far from stupid and had immediately read between the lines, figuring out that Buffy had told some lie to Sophie-Anne that Eric's presence, if revealed, would unravel.

It hadn't _really_ been a lie, she'd defended. Okay, so maybe it was a little lie-y. But mostly it was just a relay of events a little… out of order…

But after she'd convinced him to stay quiet about Eric's arrival in the city with her, he'd went off about how "Northman can't be trusted" and "stay away from him". Which had raised Buffy's hackles in turn. It had cumulated in a shouting match in her apartment where she told him in no uncertain terms that it was none of his damn business, that she didn't need his permission or approval on her friend choices.

They hadn't spoken for a few days after that. And Buffy had hated it, but she refused to apologize. She didn't have anything to apologize _for_. It was nice that he was looking out for her or whatever, but he was just being ridiculous trying to dictate who she should speak to with that "I know best" attitude.

Plus, complicating matters, there was that little niggling thought that it had almost felt more like he was _jealous_ than anything else. And if he _was_ jealous and not just protective? Buffy just wasn't sure how to feel about that. Was it a friend thing? A possessive vampire thing? Or something… _else_. Yep, she definitely needed another woman's perspective on this.

Things were better between her and Rasul now. Fences were being slowly mended day after day. But the awkwardness still sat between her and her vampire friend like a five hundred pound woman in a leopard printed muumuu - you didn't want to face it directly, but it was very obviously there.

Things with Eric, on the other hand, were going pretty well. She couldn't help the small smile that worked its way on her face at the thought of the big blond vampire as she turned toward some cute little boutiques in the French Quarter, intending on killing some time with shopping while she waited until it was time to meet Amelia.

Eric had somehow found out which apartment was hers and sent a note from The Blood, the hotel he stayed in that night they came back from Jackson, giving her his cell number and the number to Fangtasia and telling her he was going back the following night. She'd been a little disappointed (okay, more than a little) but had understood. Despite his words to Rasul, it really would've beeen bad if Sophie-Anne had found out he was in town instead of in Shreveport, where he was supposed to be looking out for Edgington's attack on Bill and Sookie.

She'd called him the following night, using the excuse that she wanted to check on Bill and Sookie. He'd told her there had indeed been some Weres waiting at Sookie's house, not in really in connection to Edgington, but it had still been lucky he'd sent Pam and a few of his people to check on things anyway. She hadn't asked for details about how they'd been dealt with.

They'd only talked once since then - she didn't want to seem too interested, like she was desperate for his attention or anything, and honestly, she was still pretty unsure what was going on and if it was a good idea to pursue anything with him.

He'd sent her a note with the Christmas gift asking that she call him once her house arrest was up. Then he called two days ago, apparently impatient and seeing if she could leave New Orleans yet - again asking that she call him when she could. She wondered if he just wanted to see her or if he wanted to keep track of what Sophie-Anne was up to. It was probably both.

In any case, she wanted to see him too, but didn't think about asking him to come there. Things with Rasul were just starting to settle, she didn't want to stir them up again. Would she actually call him when she could leave the city? She wasn't sure… She did know she wanted to see him again though. And soon.

* * *

><p>Fangtasia was already packed and they had just opened. People where lined up at the door, at the bar, to see the vampires up close. Everywhere he looked, he saw dollar signs. It was a good night.<p>

"I still can't believe you let him just pull out of the car like that," Pam said out of nowhere, instantly souring Eric's mood.

"And I should've done what exactly? Killed him? Her _'friend'_?" He asked shooting her a scalding glare and wishing for the thousandth time that he hadn't shared that particular detail with his second.

"I didn't say you made the wrong choice, I just said I still couldn't believe it. I must meet this girl if she's responsible for you allowing some security guard to put his hands on you without any repercussions."

"He's a personal guard for the queen," Eric said, tone bored as his eyes went back to roaming the crowd. "There would've been repercussions if I'd attacked him whether she had anything to do with it or not."

"Yes, but you would've figured on being able to explain yourself out of any trouble with Sophie-Anne. Apparently that's not the case with this girl."

Eric gave a little humorless huff. "She would _not_ have been very forgiving, of that I'm sure."

When there was no answer from Pam, he turned to see her watching him strangely.

"What is it about her?" She asked seriously.

He shrugged and turned back to the crowd.

How could he explain it to her when he couldn't even explain it to himself? All the old reasons still held - she was unbelievably fast and strong for a human, her usefulness knew no bounds. But after spending time with her, there was something else growing, a reason superseding the previous ones.

A reason he didn't want to think about or give name to.

Apparently realizing she wasn't going to get an answer out of him (yet anyway, he wasn't foolish enough to think this was the last he'd ever hear of it), Pam moved on to another topic.

"What are we going to do about the witches?"

Eric's mood soured further. The new coven of witches in town were a problem. They wanted fifty percent of Fangtasia's income or they were going to make things "difficult". And he had no doubt they could. With a coven as powerful as this one working against him, Fangtasia would be out of business within a month. They also said they'd accept a large lump sum instead of a percentage of the club's take, but Eric wasn't stupid enough to think that would be the end of it. If he paid them a large chunk of money now, they'd just come back for more later, agreement or no.

"I haven't decided," he said flatly.

What he really wanted was to just kill them all and be done with it. But he needed more time to plan an assault like that. More allies so his people wouldn't be the ones falling on the front lines. As little as he liked the idea, he might just have to pay them to buy himself that time to plan.

"You should stop brooding about that girl and the guard and focus more on the issues at hand," Pam said bluntly before leaving him.

He watched her saunter away, drawing the attention of all the fangbangers in the vicinity as she went. His enjoyment in watching the money flow in spoiled, Eric left the main bar for his office in the back - his mind turning back to Buffy before he'd even made it ten feet. Pam had a point, of course. He absolutely _should_ be concentrating on what to do about the witches, not thinking about a little blond that drove like a maniac and made up her own words as she went.

But that guard being near her even now bothered him more than he wanted to admit. It preyed on his mind, eating up his attention and refusing to be pushed away. Though Buffy had said they were currently not on good terms with each other, it still sat in his thoughts, festering. Maybe she was blind to Rasul's intentions toward her, but Eric knew a possessive rage when he saw one. That filth thought of Buffy as his and there was nothing Eric wanted more than to go there and prove that assumption wrong.

And now she was avoiding him.

She said she couldn't leave New Orleans - Sophie-Anne's orders. But was that all there really was to it? He'd given her his phone number, but she'd only called once. To check on Bill and Sookie.

He shut the door to his office with a little more force than necessary. Slipping into his chair for some more brood- no, not brooding. _Meditative thought_. That's what it was.

He didn't like this… _confusion_ she made him feel. He didn't like _feeling_ period. Everything about her should try his patience and make him want to wash his hands of her, yet he found himself more and more fixated on her instead.

Then there had been her blood…

He felt his fangs run out just at the thought of it. _Never_ had he tasted anything like that. Like it was made of pure power, it had burst across his tongue and left his mouth tingling, almost numb, his senses sharpened to a fevered pitch for a split second. It wasn't just the power though… it was the _darkness_, the _violence_ that filled every drop. There'd been a second where he'd wanted more than anything to kill those Weres. Not that he hadn't wanted to kill them _before_ - that attack on her had dredged up those confusing feelings he didn't want to examine too closely. But after he'd tasted her blood, it was like rage had just flamed across his reasoning, demanding bloodshed.

Luckily kissing her had been a suitable outlet, turning the sudden fury into passion.

What she was, where she came from, all that was still a mystery to him. She smelled divine but human, tasted like heaven and hell mixed together, and fought like a vengeful goddess. Why was she so strong? Why was her blood so different? Why didn't she know the details of what vampires and werewolves were, yet worked for Sophie-Anne? He'd ridden in a car with her, uninterrupted, for almost three hours and had the answer to not one of those questions. If anything, he'd gained more.

One thing he _did_ know was that he wanted her. He wanted her now more than ever.

And he would have her.

His mental declaration was punctuated by Chow knocking on his office door and informing him that one of the witches was there to see him. A full three days before schedule… this could lead to nothing good, he was sure.

He leaned back in his chair, resting his elbows on the armrests and steepling his fingers under his chin while he waited for Chow to show the witch in. He'd take care of this nonsense then maybe he'd pay a visit to New Orleans…

* * *

><p>Buffy stormed down a side street, hoping to avoid the New Years crowds leaving the bars in the French Quarter. Her hands were balled in tight fists at her sides and a scowl was etched firmly on her face.<p>

"What?" She snapped at a passing couple that was staring at her. "This is New Orleans, there's a lot weirder stuff around than a girl with blue stripes. Home of Mardi Gras for god's sake."

She continued on, thankful when she passed out of the glow of the streetlamp into the dark stretch before the next one.

She should've known better than to agree to help Amelia with a new spell. But she'd went and met with her anyway, like an idiot. Even after she heard she was working on something to "impress" her mentor in some kind of witchy review, she completely missed the very obvious translation to "I'm doing something out of my league so I can look like a badass".

It hadn't gone well. Surprise, surprise.

The first clue should've been when the spell ingredients started smoking and smelling like a combination of sewer and moldy oranges. But Amelia had ignored it. And even though Buffy had started to wonder if maybe this wasn't such a good idea at that point, she'd still stuck around. Doing her part to hold some magic mojo mirror that the ingredients were supposed to be sucked into. Then the mirror had broken, but the gooey pot of smoking, stinky crap Amelia had been chanting over had already zoomed up like a geyser, heading right for where the mirror _had_ been. Which led it on a direct path to Buffy's face.

Buffy had thrown her arms up at the last second, the result being that the potion had splashed the top of her head, a stripe across her nose and cheeks, and then on her chin and neck, along with her hands and the forearms of her new jacket.

Turning everywhere it touched a bright blue.

Buffy guessed she should just feel grateful that the smell had gone away and she hadn't sprouted a tail.

She was two blocks from her apartment building and going through a mental list of stain removers when she spotted commotion down a little ways and across the street. Two couples were running, and running hard, away from a spot where a big van she recognized as belonging to the vampire division of the N.O.P.D. was parked. As she got closer, she could hear the fight - growls and flesh striking flesh, then a vampire in uniform flew out of the mouth of an alley, landing near the van and not getting up again.

No wonder those people had been running. A vampire fight wasn't something to stick around for, especially if the special division of the police had been called in. She was glad they hadn't been stupid enough to try and get closer… like she was going to do.

Hey, she was the Slayer. If those vamp cops couldn't take this guy down, she couldn't just let him run off into the night if he was dangerous.

Crossing the street in a low running crouch, she sidled along the edge of a building until she reached the mouth of the alley where the fighting was going down. Peering around the edge, she saw another downed vampire near the back and two more trying to corner the guy.

"Come on now, you don't want us to have to use this, do you?" The one on the left asked, holding up a stake. "Just come along quietly and we'll get this all sorted out."

Further back in the shadows, the vampire they were after snarled, white fangs catching the little light there was back there. His body was crouched and his fingers were hooked into claws as he watched the cops with glowing eyes.

But all of that just registered dimly in the back of Buffy's brain. The biggest, most important fact, was that this vampire was Eric.

He was missing his shirt and shoes, his jeans were ripped and bloodstained, his face and hair smeared with dirt, but it was most definitely him.

When she saw the cop with the stake start toward him, she acted immediately and without a thought. They heard her in an instant, both cops spinning toward the new threat, but she was already within striking distance. A high roundhouse swept up through the air, catching the hand with the stake and sending it clattering into the darkness. Her leg had barely come down when she struck out with her fist for a quick jab, then dodged a lunge from the cop behind her. She danced between them, dodging and striking until they were both as unconscious as their fellow officers.

She was surveying her work, patting herself on the back and catching her breath, when she heard the wail of a distant siren approaching.

"Crap," she said, backing toward Eric, before spinning and grabbing his wrist. "I don't know what you got into, but we've gotta-"

Her instincts screamed out their warning a second too late and suddenly she found her self crashing into the brick wall of one of the buildings framing the alley. She barely got her arm up in time to stop the snapping teeth from sinking into her throat, her forearm coming up across his neck and holding him at bay.

She gave him a hard shove and then dropped low, ramming him in the chest with her shoulder and sending him back a few steps before sweeping his legs out from under him. She pounced on him the moment he hit the ground, locking his legs down by hooking her feet over his thighs, her weight settled on his hips and hands holding his forearms to the filthy alley floor.

"Eric! What the _hell_?" She half panted.

He struggled beneath her, body twisting and thrashing. She fought to keep him down, but she knew she couldn't stay like this indefinitely. She might be just as strong as him, but he was much bigger, his longer limbs gave him more leverage in a position like this.

"Eric, stop it, dammit!"

His eyes met hers for a fleeting second as he continued to fight her and what she saw there took her breath away, almost causing her to let him loose.

Terror. He looked absolutely terrified.

"Eric," she said, trying to sound soothing. "It's okay. Everything's fine. You need to calm down and then I'll let you up, alright?"

She kept up a soft litany of soothing "it's alright"s and "I'm not going to hurt you"s, and finally his thrashing slowed, then stopped. He stared at her, blue eyes glowing oddly in the low light and not showing an ounce of recognition.

"Eric? Is that who I am?" He asked, his voice so hoarse it was barely understandable. "Who are you? Where is this?"

_Oh great..._

Buffy's shoulders slumped as she gave a world-weary sigh, listening as the sirens grew louder.


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter Twenty-One**

The universe was mocking her. She just knew it.

Buffy could admit that when she'd thought about seeing Eric again, she'd indulged her imagination a little and pictured her straddling him while he was half-naked. He was pretty damn hot and could kiss like some kind of lecherous god after all.

This wasn't quite what she'd had in mind though…

"Your name is Eric, I'm Buffy and you're in New Orleans," she said. "Now, if I let you up are you going to try and bite my face off again?"

Eric's face crumpled into a sheepish look that was so wildly out of place on his face that she almost laughed.

"I won't, I was just… Those men attacked me and I didn't know where I was… I won't hurt you, I promise."

Blue eyes fairly dripping with sincerity stared up at her, the terror still swimming in their depths. Buffy had the insane urge to hug him, but rational thought and the recent memory of white teeth snapping at her neck kept that wish at bay.

Taking a deep breath, she climbed off of him, making sure to move slower than normal so she didn't frighten him again. Eric's eyes never left her, as if he was afraid the only source of answers might disappear if he looked away. He got to his feet as well, body still tensed in fight or flight mode.

"My name is Eric? And I know you? How did I get-"

"All that's going to have to wait," Buffy said, tossing a glance toward the end of the alley. The sirens couldn't be more than a street away by now. "We can't stay here."

Eric seemed to notice the annoying repetitious wailing for the first time and turned wide eyes out toward the street, body tensing further and his lips peeling back from fangs that had just started to retract.

"Come on," she said, jogging toward the back of the alley. It was a dead end - or would be to anyone who couldn't jump the twelve feet to the top of the brick barrier in the back. She leapt up, catching the edge and pulling herself to the top easily. Eric followed, his movements graceful and smooth even as his eyes kept darting slightly panicked looks between Buffy and the mouth of the alley.

"So you don't remember anything?" She asked, hopping down on the other side, trying to find out where they stood.

"No, I was a born running down the road out there. Until that moment, I was a void."

Buffy bit back a curse at his answer. Amnesia was such a bitch.

"You do know you're a vampire, right?" She asked, then mentally slapped herself. She could've been a little more delicate there, in case he didn't know. She remembered when Willow's spell had caused them all to forget themselves - Spike hadn't known about his "condition".

But Eric answered with a surprised, "Yes" as if she'd asked a silly question. "And you are not. You are… something else…" he half questioned, half stated.

"Yeah, something else," Buffy smirked, not offering any more explanation.

"Why are you so strong?" He asked, a lot like a little kid asking why the sky was blue. Pure, unadulterated curiosity.

"Just because."

She lead him down another alley, made a brief sprint across a road and again navigated another few alleys. The wheels of her mind turned as her legs pumped. She couldn't just run around in the open. He drew too much attention, not to mention she wasn't exactly blending into the crowd with her blue stripes - something she was sure the vampires they'd knocked out would use in the description to search for them when they woke up. Yes, they were far from inconspicuous - a little blond woman with blue stripes on her face running around with a big half-naked, filthy blond with blood on the one article of clothing he was wearing.

Speaking of…

"Where'd that blood on your pants come from?" She asked, glancing at him over her shoulder.

He looked down at his pants himself, as if he just realized the blood was there, then gave her a half shrug.

"I'd assume it came from those men in the alley."

Buffy'd like to make that assumption, too. But the fact was he wasn't sure, he could've done anything in that empty space before he realized he was running down a street. She wasn't going to take any chances by taking him near anywhere too populated right now. She angled their escape further toward the outskirts of the French Quarter, trying to find a quieter residential neighborhood where most of the people would be in bed despite it being New Years. Eric just didn't seem very stable or safe right then, she didn't want them running into some group of drunken frat guys and him going postal and killing someone.

She continued to navigated the warren of alleys and side streets, Eric following about a step away from being on top of her the entire way. His steps were silent, but his presence loomed behind her, making her Slayer instincts itchy. Finally, she felt they were at a decent distance from the scene of the fight. She was sure that they wouldn't stop searching - a vampire and a girl knocking four officers out wasn't something they were likely to let go just because they were having a hard time finding them. Plus, she wasn't sure how well the stench of the alleys would cover their tracks. If they decided to follow their trail on foot, following their scent, then they had even less time to figure something out.

Pulling her cell phone from her blue stained jacket, she flipped through the contacts until she reached Fangtasia. Eric hovered over her shoulder, making her edgy. She stepped away and turned to face him instead.

"What are you doing? You said you know me?"

"Yeah, we're friends," she said, oversimplifying for the sake of expediency, while she put the phone to her ear. "And I'm calling Pam, she's like your co-captain or vice president or whatever. Your right hand man- well, woman. Maybe she can tell us what happened to your memory and how you got all the way down here."

"What if she's turned against me? Or is responsible for this?"

Buffy weighed that thought - she didn't know Pam, but she got the feeling Eric (when he was himself) trusted her implicitly. Probably not something he did often or easily, so she doubted Pam would be behind this. But she didn't know for sure…

"If she is, then it's best we know now. Don't worry, I won't let anything happen to you," she said.

Then she reached up, standing on her tip toes, and patted the top of his head, unable to stand that terrified, confused look anymore. She remembered what it had been like herself, that horrible feeling of not knowing who she was. That gaping, black hole in your mind where the simplest information telling you who _you_ were. At least she'd had people around her who were in the same predicament as her. Eric was alone. All he had was her, and it made her determined and sad all at once.

Her hand went from the silky crown of his hair and touched his cheek briefly before she pulled her hand back. He blinked at her for a second, blue eyes wide and wondering instead of scared for the moment. Seeing that made her feel a little better and she gave him a reassuring smile, then focused her attention back on the phone as someone finally answered.

"Fangtasia," an accented male voice answered.

"I need to speak with Pam."

"She's busy at the moment. Is there something I can help you with," he said, his words polite, but the tone underneath impatient.

"I think I have something she's looking for," Buffy answered, going with the cryptic since she didn't know this dude from Adam.

After a long silence, he said, "Wait a minute."

A few seconds later a woman's voice came on the line. "Pam."

"Pam, I think I have something of yours," she said, testing her reaction.

"Who is this?" Like the guy that had answered the phone, her words said one thing, while her tone said another. Buffy was hearing a threat loud and clear despite the simple question hanging in the air.

Buffy briefly thought of lying or giving a fake name, but figured that really wouldn't get them anywhere. She wasn't exactly the best liar and if Pam sniffed out she wasn't being truthful, then, if she wasn't behind what happened to Eric, she wouldn't share any details - the trust would've crumbled before it even formed.

"My name is Buffy. I have Eric here and-"

"Buffy… He's in New Orleans?" Pam said, sounding shocked.

Buffy pushed away the little bubble of pleasure she felt knowing that Eric had apparently talked about her to Pam. Before she could answer, Pam jumped in again, her voice grave and urgent.

"Does Sophie-Anne know he's there?"

"No, I just found him, he-"

"Is he damaged?"

"Uh, well… he's kinda got amnesia…"

"He doesn't remember who he is?"

"Yes, that's what the word 'amnesia' means," Buffy said irritably, then sighed. "Sorry. It's just been a long night. I had a little problem with a witch earlier tonight which ended in my adorable new Cavalli jacket getting stained blue. Plus Eric drew the attention of the vamp division of the N.O.P.D. so the cops are looking for us now. Can we cut to the chase here and you tell me what the hell is going on?"

Silence stretched out over the line before Pam asked, "A Cavalli jacket? From the winter collection?"

"_Yes_," Buffy whined. "I _just_ got it yesterday."

"That bitch…" Pam said breathlessly, sounding shocked and furious.

"So give me the sitch," Buffy said, feeling a little more charitable toward Pam now that they'd bonded over the tragedy of ruined designer clothes.

"First, these witches that ruined your jacket? What did they look like? Why were they there?"

"Oh, it was just one and it was actually just an accident. She didn't mean to do it, but it doesn't make my it any less blue…"

"You're sure?"

"Yep, she's actually helped me out before, so- wait, why? Are witches behind what happened to Eric?" Buffy asked, putting two and two together and coming up with the same old answer of "witchy spells can equal amnesia".

"Yes, we've been having a slight witch problem around here lately. A new coven came into town and demanded half of Fangtasia's revenue and threatened to start causing problems should they not get it. But the leader decided she wanted Eric and sent a messenger to put another offer on the table - seven nights with Eric in exchange for only a fifth of the bar's income. Eric refused, quite… colorfully," Pam said, sounding torn between exasperation and amusement. "To make matters worse, Chow, the bartender who answered the phone, lost his temper and attacked the witch. Eric immediately disappeared when that happened."

"Great," Buffy huffed, leaning back against the alley wall and glancing at Eric. She was sure he could hear every word - especially since he was only standing about six inches from her. "So, what? I bring him back up there and we hunt this chick down? Make her un-whammy him?"

Eric stiffened, his already pale face going a little gray - announcing without words that he didn't care for that idea at all. Pam seemed to like it even less.

"_No_," she said emphatically. "Do _not_ bring him back here. It's not safe. They'll know he's been incapacitated and will be searching for him. He's safer there than he is here, but you'll still need to be extremely careful. There are hordes of witches in New Orleans and I have no idea how far this coven's reach is. Keep him hidden until we can take care of this. And whatever you do, _do not_ let Sophie-Anne know of this."

"Why not? She could send you some back up to take on these witches," Buffy said, confused. "They attacked one of her… subjects? Employees? Whatever. I'm sure that wouldn't go over real well with her."

"Yes, she probably would send a new group in. Because if she found out that Eric was unable to do his duty as Sherriff of Area Five, she'd send a replacement. And if she found out he's been debilitated by a coven of witches, she'd most likely make that replacement permanent, thinking he can't handle the job himself - plus he'd probably be punished."

Buffy paled at the thought of poor, memory-less, scared Eric being "punished" by Sophie-Anne. No way was that happening on her watch. Still…

"So, you expect me to just hide him here under her nose? How exactly do you think I can keep him a secret? He's not exactly Stewart Little."

"I'm sure you'll think of something. Eric boasts your resourcefulness all of the time," she said, waving away Buffy's worries like they were nothing. Buffy had to wonder what exactly Eric had said about her to have his second put this much faith in her - someone she'd never even met before. "I'll work on getting rid of the witches and forcing their leader to lift the curse. If he hasn't regained his memory in a week's time, call me back."

Buffy sighed again as she disconnected and stuffed the phone back in her pocket. A cat yowled in the distance, the sound of a garbage can falling over followed it. Eric jumped, pressing his side against Buffy as he looked around wildly. She patted him absentmindedly on the back while her mind worked on finding a solution to their current problem.

She couldn't take him to her apartment, that was clearly x-ed through as soon as she thought it. The building was owned by Sophie-Anne, she probably knew everything that went on in there. Plus there was Rasul. No way could she have Eric in there with out him finding out. And Buffy had no doubt that he'd turn in Eric the first moment he could. No amount of pleading on her part would change his mind this time.

That was if she could even get him there, which with him growling at cars, jumping at every sound and snarling at random people on the street seemed pretty unlikely. Oh, and then there were the cops looking for them and the fact that any person could be a tattle-tale-ing witch.

Where the hell could she stash him? Not to be overdramatic, but it seemed like danger lurked around every corner.

A chilly wind rushed through the alley, carrying the sound of sirens wailing in the distance and tugging at her hair. Buffy reached up to push a clump of blue striped strands from her face and something caught her eye.

The meager light from the street glinted off the ring on her finger, bright and shiny from being protected in her pocket during the spell explosion.

_No. Nononono. Bad, bad idea_, she thought, shaking her head and ignoring Eric's curious look. The idea, now freed, wouldn't leave her though. _There's no cops or evil witches there hunting for him. I wouldn't have to hide him from Sophie-Anne or Rasul…_

The idea was absurd. Where would she take him? She'd run into the same problems there as she would trying to get him somewhere safe here. He was big, half-crazed and probably dangerous. She didn't have a quiet place she could just portal them away to.

_What about Dawn's?_ The little voice that had sprung the idea from the depths asked.

_Yeah, because showing up at your little sister's apartment with a half-naked crazy vampire from another dimension was a great idea_, she countered. Maybe if this had been a few days ago and Dawn was still in Florence with her boyfriends family that would work, but she was bound to be back at her place in Rome by now.

_Slayer Headquarters?_

She snorted, making Eric jump. _That's an even better idea than Dawn's. Like taking a snake into a den of mongooses._

She wished she'd had the forethought to set up a little hidey-hole for herself somewhere in her home dimension. But she'd never really felt the need for a place like that. She'd just hopped from hotel to hotel. She could transport them to one of them, but they all blended together after a while so she wasn't sure she'd be able to picture any one in particular in perfect detail or remember exactly where it was.

Her old apartment in L.A. popped in her mind suddenly. If only she'd still had a place like that. She wondered if Lily/Anne was still living there…

The sirens seemed to be getting closer and Buffy straightened as her Slayer senses started to ping faintly.

They were coming.

There wasn't any more time to debate.

She glanced at Eric, who'd gone stiff and still, wide eyes staring toward the south where they'd come from. He looked at her, fear and trust flickering across his face, but he didn't say anything. The trust is what did her in. Knowing she was all he had and he believed she'd help him.

But did he trust her enough to jump through a portal with her?

She doubted it. It would be like trying to convince a cat that they had to swim to the bottom of a river to get away from a flood.

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes - picturing the streets of L.A., following one to another in her mind until she reached the familiar apartment building. She pictured the stairs and her door at the end of the hall. The way the tarnished gold letter hung at angle and how the peephole had been painted over. Then she pictured the inside. She avoided thinking about furniture (not that there had been much) because she was sure it was different by now, instead concentrating on the rickety window and the ugly bathroom tile and the length of the room.

She had one last moment where she realized what a horrible idea this was. What if Lily/Anne didn't live there anymore? It _had_ been five years after all. What if someone new lived there? They'd call the cops if they didn't have a heart attack. What if-

_Oh, just shut up and do it_, the little voice huffed in annoyance. _The perfect solution would be nice, but there's no time for that. Hop to it!_

She turned the ring.

She heard the whine of the portal as it came into existence behind Eric, painting the backsides of her eyelids bright pink. She opened her eyes to see Eric had whirled around to face the swirling vortex behind him - hunched down again in an instinctual animalistic pose. She wasted no time in trying to convince him to go in.

She rushed him, slamming into his back and falling with him through the swirling pink light.


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter Twenty-Two**

The first thing that filtered into Buffy's fuzzy brain was the smell - a stomach churning combination of puke, marijuana and patchouli. She swallowed hard, that was when she noticed the taste in her mouth. At least now she knew where the puke smell had come from…

Next came the thrumming pain in her temples, causing bursts of expanding and contracting red light to pulse behind her closed eyelids. Closely followed by an achy feeling, like she'd just had the flu.

Okay, she could feel, she could smell and she could taste. Hearing?

"You threw up on me," Eric's voice, thick with shock, said from very, very close. "You made me fall through a big pink puddle in the air, then you threw up on my back."

Hearing, check. And her sense of embarrassment was also working just fine. Why did her portal hangover have involve throwing up the one time Eric was with her?

At least she knew she hadn't been unconscious for long, Eric didn't sound panicked enough for that. And hey, the combination of her being sickly and his shock might keep him from being too mad about her heavy handed methods.

Okay, as much as she didn't want to, it was time for sight.

When she opened her eyes everything was a little fuzzy, but cleared quickly. Leaving her an unobstructed view of nothing but Eric's face, inches from her own. Normally not an unwelcome sight, but the combination of puke smell, her own puke _breath_ and that wide eyed confused look of his face ruined the moment. She put her hand on his chest and pushed him back, unwilling to open her mouth directly in his face until she'd had a good tooth brushing and some Listerine.

He placed one large hand behind her shoulder, helping her sit up (which was complete unnecessary, but really cute). Then watched her, his brow furrowed, while she took in their surroundings. One thing was for sure…

Lily/Anne definitely didn't live there anymore.

The room was dark, the windows covered with blackout curtains, but a weak lamp in the corner gave off enough light to see everything. A huge velvet poster of a marijuana leaf with little people dancing on it was on the wall across from her, hanging directly above a small table where a huge bong sat. Random men's clothes were tossed all over and old boxes of pizza and bags of chips peeked out from under them here and there. Instead of the small bed that had been there when Buffy had lived in the apartment, now there was a black futon. On it sat a guy with dreadlocked blond hair wearing an Elmo shirt and a pair of pajama pants featuring what looked like pandas in race cars. He was also smoking the biggest joint Buffy had ever seen. Not that she'd seen many…

Well that would be where the marijuana smell had come from. At least that mystery was solved.

"Uh, sorry about barging in like this," Buffy said awkwardly as she stood up.

His sleepy looking eyes widened a bit as he stared back at her.

"Whoa, I get to be a part of this too? Like a choose your own adventure book? Take the right path, dude."

Buffy opened her mouth, but realized she had absolutely no idea what to say to that, so she closed it again.

"Dude said this was some primo shit," he went on, looking fondly at the joint in his hand. "But these hallucinations are _awesome_. First the tentacle monster attacking the city, now a giant and a Smurfette/hot chick hybrid in my own pad. Fuckin' sweet…"

Buffy's eyebrow twitched while he took in another lung full of smoke and kept staring at them.

Buffy decided ignoring him was probably the best bet, he obviously wasn't a threat and wasn't going to call the cops or freak out about them popping up out of nowhere. In all honesty, if it wasn't Lily's apartment anymore, this was the next best thing - a guy who saw things and thought they were just another hallucination. She left him to it and headed for the bathroom, careful not to touch anything more than necessary. Eric followed closely, tossing nervous glances back at the dreadlocked guy. Under the counter she found about twenty new tooth brushes, three books on how to make money on real estate, a coat hanger, and an empty cereal box filled with travel sized mouth wash. Totally weird, but very convenient for her.

"Why did you do that?" Eric asked from beside her as she brushed. She looked over (and up) to see that he looked even worse than before on account of the orange rivulets of drying bile running over the tops of his shoulders, mixing in with the dirt.

She made an "ew" face, spit, rinsed and used the mouth wash before turning to face him fully.

"Sorry, portal jumping is a little rough on a human body. You're just lucky I hadn't eaten anything since those cheese puffs…"

"No, not 'why did you throw up on me'. Why did you push me through that thing? And where are we? Did you say portal?"

"Oh, that… Sorry. Again," she said with a grimace. "I didn't think I'd be able to talk you into going through it, even if we had more time. But the cops were coming, and with everything Pam said… I just thought you'd be safer here."

"And here is?" He asked, looking around the apartment with wide eyes.

"L.A." Well, it really _was_ L.A., just a different one. "Someone I knew used to live here. Obviously, that's not the case anymore," she said with a glance at the guy on the futon.

The stoner watched them, eyes slowly tracking back and forth as they spoke to each other, then took another hit from his huge joint.

Buffy shook her head. "Why don't you go get cleaned up," she said with a nod toward the shower. "I'm sure this guy's got _something_ around here you can wear." But she was a little dubious of that, she couldn't help but wonder if Eric's filthy, blood stained jeans might be better.

When he didn't move, just stared at her in fear, she didn't need him to tell her what was wrong. She reached up and patted him on the shoulder.

"Don't worry, I'm not going anywhere."

After a second's more hesitation, he moved toward the shower, tossing looks at her over his shoulder as she left the doorway and went back into the apartment, as if he thought she was going to bolt for the door. She left the door open, afraid he'd freak out if she tried to shut it.

"Hey, what's your name?" She asked the stoner, trying to be a polite apartment crasher.

"Whoa… uh… It's Josh," he said after a moments hesitation. "But that's the name for my body, you know. I'm more than a body."

"Sure, Josh, more than a body. Got it. You know what time it is?"

"I don't keep track of stuff like that, Smurfette Chick. The passing of time brings you down. _Way_ down."

Buffy gave up and headed for the window. Eric, somehow sensing her movement, peeked out at her from behind the shower curtain. She gave him a little wave and a smile. The whole needy thing was kinda cute and helped her keep track of him, but she wondered how much longer it would last. She missed old Eric, with his inappropriate sense of humor, devil-may-care attitude and constant smirk

He'd be back, she assured herself. She just had to keep the helpless version of him safe until then. She hoped old Eric didn't appear while they were still in this dimension, though. That was something she hadn't really thought through before they leapt. She wasn't sure she was ready for him to know she wasn't from his world, or that she had constant access back and forth. She knew he'd be insanely curious - if he came back to himself here, she'd have a problem trying to get him to go back to his own dimension. He'd want to explore, she just knew it. And that way led badness of epic proportions, because if he found out that her job for years had been as a "vampire slayer"… Well, she'd rather him not find out about that if she could help it.

Well, no sense in worrying about that now, she'd cross that bridge if she came to it. So, shaking those thoughts away, she pulled back the heavy blackout curtains and looked outside, trying to gage if it was safe to take Eric out or, if not, how long they'd be stuck before they could leave. Red light poured into the room, making her think it was sunset at first. She was relieved for a second - until she realized it was [i]too[/i] red. She blinked in confusion, her eyes adjusting quickly.

Then she gasped.

The sky was wrong. _Very_ wrong. Deep red came from the horizon and slashed at an angle across the sky. To the east was darkness, but even though it lacked any light at all, she could tell it was the natural dark of night, not like this eerie crimson washing over everything. And the way it slanted gave the impression that the city had tilted, was capsizing or sliding downward.

Her breaths fogged the glass as her mind grasped for an explanation. Had she transported them to a different dimension by accident? Was that possible? She'd thought the ring would only open a portal between her world and Eric's, that if she got something wrong it simply wouldn't appear at all. But this… this was all wrong.

"Does it usually look like this?" She asked Josh breathlessly.

"Only since the awesome ganja kicked in."

She watched with wide eyes as huge tentacles appeared out of nowhere, smashing into a building in the distance.

"What is that?" Eric asked from right over her shoulder, making her jump.

"Hey, you're clean, and not on fire," she observed with a glance as the red light washed over his chiseled features and water darkened hair.

"Not sunlight," he said quietly as he looked out at the city with serious eyes. How could someone so afraid she might be disappear on him look out at _that_ without freaking out?

"_Told you_ this was some primo shit," the stoner put in from the couch. "Just bein' in here with my smoke has let you see the other world, Smurfette, Giant Dude."

For one brief, insane moment, Buffy wondered if that was really it. Was she stoned off some second-hand super-weed smoke and imagining some hellacious landscape?

"That's stupid," she said aloud, angry at herself for even entertaining that idea. "We're all hallucinating _the same thing_?"

Buffy didn't know much about weed, but she didn't think it was powerful enough to make you see stuff like _that_. And no way would they all see a wicked red horizon and tentacles shooting out of the ground.

So what did that leave? Either she really was in the wrong L.A…. or she was in the right one and it was in big trouble. And what about the people? Stoner boy couldn't be the only person in the whole city.

As if on cue, a thin scream came from outside and was abruptly cut off.

"This doesn't seem like a very 'safe' place," Eric remarked quietly.

"It's not usually like this… I don't know what's going on…"

She watched grimly as dark shadows skittered around the street below and unnatural shapes occasionally streaked across the sky. She heard more screams in the distance now that she was listening for them. The Slayer in her rose up. She had to get out there. Find out what was going on and help who she could.

Whipping around, determination soaring through her, Eric was suddenly there, blocking her way. For a moment there she'd actually forgotten about him. She couldn't take him with her, what would she-

But her thoughts on what to do about him were lost as she caught full sight of him for the first time since he'd gotten out of the shower.

He'd done like she'd told him and put on the stoner's clothes. But apparently Josh was much smaller than Eric. _Much _smaller. The black sweatpants Eric wore clung to him in a way that was almost obscene and the bottoms barely reached his calves. The bright tie-dyed shirt was practically painted on, both the hems on the sleeves had split to accommodate his muscular upper arms and the shirt stopped just short of his belly button.

Buffy turned back to the window, shoulders shaking as she tried to keep the explosive burst of laughter from escaping.

"Is something wrong? Should I change? There weren't many options…"

"No, no, those are fine," Buffy said, almost choking with her attempt at a level voice.

She groped at her pockets, hoping what she was looking for hadn't gotten lost in the hectic run across the French Quarter. Ah, there it was! She yanked her phone free, praying it still worked. There was no service, not that she'd been expecting any, but that wasn't what she wanted it for anyway. Turning around, she snapped a full length picture of Eric. No way was she passing up that bit of blackmail material.

He watched in confusion as she tucked the phone away again, the bewildered look on his face making her feel a little bad. Not bad enough to erase it, though.

"Okay," she said getting down to business. "I need you to stay here with Josh. I need to go out and find-"

"No," Eric said, showing some backbone for the first time since his panicked, terror fueled scuffle in the New Orleans' alley. "You're not going out there alone."

"Eric," she said reaching for patience. "People are in trouble. I have to go help them. It's not safe for you to be out there right now. I can't save them and watch out for you too."

"It's not safe for me, but it's safe for you? Am I feeble in some way when I have my memory?" He asked seriously.

"Feeble?" She asked, thrown. "Uh… no. Definitely not."

"So you think that because I can't remember, I am feeble now? Or I am a coward?"

She didn't want to say 'yes' and hurt his feelings, but that's exactly what she thought. He was afraid just being in the shower!

"Don't leave me here," he said, his voice softening. "I won't get in the way. I can help. Let me go with you…"

Buffy sighed. Did she really have a choice if he wouldn't willingly stay? If she knocked him out, he'd just come looking for her. She guessed it was better to have him with her than out there alone.

"Fine. But you have to stay on your guard, Eric. Look out for yourself, because I can't watch you every second."

She thought he might bristle at being talked to like a kid, but he just nodded.

"Alright, let's go," she said, leading the way to the door. "Josh, lock this door after us and don't open it again until the sky stops being red, got it?"

"Sure thing, Warrior Smurfette," Josh said, shuffling off the futon for the first time and following them to the door. She could see that he was barely taller than her now that he was standing. No wonder those clothes didn't fit Eric… "Have fun storming the castle, may the force be with you and watch out for the orcs on the way to Mount Doom."

Buffy just shook her head, Josh had a power few other had - rendering her speechless. She waited in the hall for the sound of the lock clicking in place then headed for the stairs. Her steps were soundless as were Eric's behind her. She suddenly remembered he had no shoes on. That would be a problem… Walking around L.A. with no shoes was definitely not something she'd recommend, vampire or not. It was just gross. She'd have to keep an eye out for a store while they were out. Hopefully the demonic chaos had kept looting to a minimum and she'd be able to find him something in his size…

Only silence came from the doors they went by, making her wonder if Josh was the only one in the building or if all the other residents were just hiding, hoping to stay locked safely in their homes until the crisis passed.

But would it pass? What exactly was going on? She wasn't sure, but she knew the first place she was going to look.

Wolfram and Hart.

There was some kind of dimensional leak here in L.A., either Hell was coming to the city or the city was going to Hell. Either way, the uber-evil law firm either had a hand in it or, at the very least, knew what was going on. Plus, she was hoping to find Angel. Hopefully him and his people would already know what was going on and had a plan for stopping it.

They reached the exit without incident. Eric staying close and silent behind her. She pushed open the heavy, dented gray door that led outside, body loose but ready for anything.

It was like opening an oven door.

"Welcome to Hell A," she muttered, already wiping a drop of sweat from her brow.

For once sounding like his old self, Eric laughed.


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter Twenty-Three**

Buffy looked out into the red tinted city with dread. It was one thing to go out and fight demons, fix what was sending the city to hell in a hand-basket. But to do it when it was like a hundred and thirty degrees outside? Ugh, the thought just made her determination shrivel a little. She blew out a harsh breath, knowing that she didn't have much choice, and peeled off her ruined jacket, leaving it inside the door to the apartment building. After making sure that Mr. Pointy was secure in the waistband of her pants and that her phone was tucked safely in her pocket, she set out.

The asphalt felt springy under her feet, softened from the heat. Breathing seemed like work, the thick heavy air dragging in and out of her lungs like it wanted to drown her but was too weak to quite pull it off, just settling for making her feel drained and miserable.

It smelled like blood.

She tossed a glance over at Eric, worried the smell would be making him hungry. She hadn't really thought about what he'd eat while he was with her in L.A. and it was making her edgy now that it had occurred to her. Rasul had told her that the older the vamp, the less they need to eat, but she had no idea how long that would be. A few days? A week? But Eric didn't look hungry to her, despite the smell, so she guessed he was okay for now.

He was walking next to her, close enough that his arm brushed hers with every other step. Had Eric been himself, she might've welcomed the backup, but this Eric… Well, he was doing okay now, looking around curiously, but it was like a kid that's not scared of the monster under the bed because he has his security blanket (Buffy being the blankie of choice in this scenario). What would happen when he was faced with a real monster?

"You're from this place?" He asked, observing a broken store window.

"Well, kind of… I lived here with my family until I was fifteen, then moved away. I came back and lived here for a couple months after that, but that was it. Usually it doesn't look like this," she hurried to add. "I mean, don't get me wrong, it wasn't all sunshine and roses, but it wasn't _this_ bad."

Eric shot her a look that was part skepticism and part concern, but seemed unwilling to question or contradict her. Buffy followed his lead and dropped it even though the look left her feeling a little defensive - she'd rather not get into all the baggage that went with her time in L.A.

"Tell me about us. How did we meet?" Eric asked, leaving the subject of the city and her time there behind, much to her relief.

Buffy gave a little laugh, "I was fighting with these guys, there was an explosion and some fire, we traded gnome puns, then I ran off before either of us even learned the others name. After that, you just kind of kept popping up where I was."

Eric had turned his attention back to her fully now, her story apparently much more interesting than that desolate landscape surrounding them as they made there way down the deserted streets.

"You were fighting men? Why? Was I helping you or were we fighting each other? What exploded?"

And so it went, with Buffy patiently explaining their encounters and Eric asking every question under the sun. Most people probably would've gotten annoyed with he constant stream of inquiries, but Buffy had had Dawn for a little sister, so her tolerance for this type of thing was extremely high. Eric's wide eyed interest and childlike questions were a relief compared to Dawn's more abrasive way of _demanding_ answers, pouting, whining and occasional blackmail.

It was during her telling of their last meeting in Jackson that their luck of only coming across empty streets finally ran out. It was also how Buffy found out the hard way that her demonic radar was a little off here. She wasn't sure if it was the amount of bad mojo in the air, or if Eric's presence was throwing her off, or something else entirely, but she didn't realize anything was wrong until they were almost on top of them. Spinning, she snatched Eric's arm and yanked hard. A squeal of metal on concrete and a shower of sparks came from a sword striking the spot he'd been standing just seconds before. An ugly looking demon the color of a fresh bruise stood grinning at them with a mouth full of sharp teeth, his hand wrapped around the hilt.

After that she didn't have time to keep tabs on Eric because six of his buddies popped out of nowhere and the next few moments were a flurry of action and bloodshed. After dodging a sweeping slice from the first demon's sword, she'd slipped in close and promptly broken his neck, filching his sword and turning on her next opponent without pause. Her blade met theirs with a deafening clang, making her mentally cringe at the thought that the sound of their fight might bring other demons running. She needed to end this quickly and get Eric out of there.

Immediately taking advantage of an opening, she beheaded the demon and spun to meet the next one, who'd been coming up behind her with the hopes of stabbing her in the back. He got a gut full of blade for his trouble. Her adrenaline was pumping and she was in the "Slayage Zone", ready for the next demon to try his luck and fail. Except that was it. No more demons rushed to take the last ones place. She did a mental tally - she'd killed three… So that left four…

That was when she caught sight of Eric off to her left standing over the bodies of the missing four demons. His new clothes were flecked with black blood and a sword was in his hand. He was looking between the bodies, his face baffled but proud. Like a guy that had thrown a wild shot from across the court and managed to make the basket, or someone that's never played golf before making a hole in one on his first try.

Noticing Buffy's gaze, his eyes came up to meet hers and he gave a smile and a little shrug. Buffy just shook her head in bewilderment as she approached, taking in the carnage at the vampire's feet. Two of the demons were missing parts, as if they'd just been ripped apart, one was whole, but his head was twisted backwards, and the other was split down the middle with a horrendous wound, obviously caused by the dripping sword in Eric's hand.

The confusion Buffy felt soon melted into suspicion. Did Eric _really_ not remember anything? Was this all some kind of game to him? But no, his confusion and terror when she'd come across him fighting with those cops in the alley was real, she was sure. Did the switch to a different dimension block out the memory blocking spell? Had he just been _pretending_ to not remember since they'd gotten there?

But as she studied him, she saw the puzzled pride melt into nervousness under her critical gaze. He shuffled slightly, the black blood squelching under his bare feet.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to," he said, dropping his gaze. "I don't even know how it happened. They were attacking you and I just wanted to help. Please don't send me away."

Her suspicions fled as quickly as they'd formed. His unease and fear dousing them. While she wouldn't put it past Eric to try something like pretending to have amnesia, she could even see him agreeing to wear those ridiculous clothes if it got him closer to his goal, she didn't think he'd be able to pull off the sincere show of anxiety and neediness. He was always too much in control, used to a position of power, to be able to lay himself bare like that.

"I'm not going to send you away," she said, motioning for him to leave the circle of bodies. "I was just surprised. It's actually good that you can do that, now I don't have to worry as much about you getting hurt."

He brightened at the news that he'd done something right, giving her a tentative smile and making Buffy feel guilty for scaring him.

"I must know how to fight well, right? Why can't I remember anything about myself, but I can do that?"

"Hmm, I guess it's some kind of muscle memory," Buffy guessed as she looked around for a store. Eric's bare and bloody feet needed to be cleaned and covered, it was grossing her out. "Come to think of it, the same thing happened to me when I lost my memory. I didn't know anything about myself, but still knew how to kick va- uh, vagabond ass."

"You lost your memory too? Wait, you attacked homeless people?" Eric asked in confusion.

"Yep. Only evil homeless people though," Buffy said, scrambling to cover her slip. "Look! A store! Let's find you some shoes."

She veered off toward the nearby broken store front, taking her pilfered sword with her and making sure that Eric did the same. She hoped that that would be the end of his questioning, but he seemed to be too interested to let it go.

"That's why you fight so well? Because you were trained to fight these evil vagabonds?"

"Uh, something like that," she muttered, stepping through the jagged hole in large glass window and into the dark store.

Inside it was a mess, but it looked like it was more caused by an earthquake than a riot or looting. All the merchandise seemed to still be there, just tossed around. The shelves had tipped over, racks of clothes spilled onto the floor and the tile had buckled in a few spots. But none of that mattered to her, she wasn't there to give the place a mystery shopper rating, she just wanted to steal some giant shoes and find some water.

"So how did you go from fighting the homeless to being entangled with vampires? And what were those things that attacked us?"

She glanced back at him, again suspicious that he was just screwing with her. But he just looked back, his eyes glowing slightly cat-like in the dark interior of the store and his face showing nothing but innocent curiosity.

"Those were demons," she said, ignoring the first part of his question and turning back to search for the shoe section.

"These demons… they are common? They don't seem familiar to me, though I'm not sure that they should…"

"They're common where I'm from," she answered, vaulting over a huge line of downed shelving and hearing the whisper of noise as Eric followed. "I'm not sure if they're something you've seen before though."

He continued peppering her with questions about demons as they worked there way through the store and she gave him pointless answers, needlessly describing random demons from encounters past just to keep him entertained while she hunted for shoes for him. She found a pair that looked like they'd fit near the rear of the store and grabbed a bag of socks as well. Then, while regaling him with the tale of the Loan Shark ("He had a sharks head? Really?"), led him into the back where she found a water cooler in what must've been the employee's break room. There was only one tiny window, but it was enough for her to see with as she held the tap down so he could wash his feet under the stream of water. She wondered if Josh had just been lucky to still have water and electricity or if the destruction just hadn't made it that far yet. If not, it probably wouldn't be long… She hoped the stoner would be alright…

With Eric clad in fresh socks and running shoes, they exited the building, Eric keeping up his steady stream of questions about what Buffy knew about him (which was pathetically little, she came to realize) and about Buffy herself. She told him about her mom and Dawn, about Willow and Xander, a little about Giles, but she tried to skirt around anything involving slaying so he only got the barest of mentions. Then she circled back around to the time she lost her memory, hoping the fact that she got it back pretty quickly would make him feel better. She probably wouldn't have been so keen on telling Eric these things if he'd been himself, but right now, as a way to keep him calm and occupied while they trudged through Hell-riddled L.A., she didn't mind so much.

They came across more and more demons as they marched further into the city, but had yet to see any people, much to Buffy's relief. What _wasn't_ a relief was Eric's increasing deadliness in each encounter. It should've been - she should've been glad for his abilities. But as he grew more and more used to fighting his way through their opponents, his moves became riskier. She could tell he was trying to protect her, trying to take out as many as he could so she'd have less fighting to do, and it worried her. She tried to tell him she could take care of herself, she didn't need him to do that, what she needed was for him to take care of himself and that was all. But he just shrugged and said he was fine, offering no promises to be more careful.

She wasn't sure how long they'd been there, it was hard to tell with a sky that was a constant red. The only difference she could see was that the night sky to the east had fractionally gotten smaller. L.A. was still sinking, or sliding, or whatever the hell was happening. It was around that same time that she changed their course. They'd been heading north, toward the district where she was sure Wolfram and Hart was located, but she was starting to see that the demons seemed to be more centered to the west. Something there was drawing their attention…

The detour didn't phase Eric any. He'd finally given up on his questioning as they entered more ravaged areas of the city. It was then they started seeing bodies. Each one hit Buffy like a hammer to the chest. Women, men, children. No one had been spared. She forced herself to take in the details, though. Noticing that none of them looked like they'd been dead long. She'd be willing to bet that whatever it was that was happening, hadn't started too long before they'd gotten there.

She thought it would make her feel better when they actually came across living people, people she could help. But when they found the three teenagers about five blocks from the epicenter of the fighting, trying to outrun something with twice as many legs as the three of them put together, dispatching the demon presented a new problem.

Now what.

She'd saved them. But what would happen to them now? They looked at her, not much more than children, as if they expected her to have all the answers. Even Eric watched her curiously, waiting for instruction. She couldn't take them with her, she was heading into the middle of the fray, aiming toward the most demon flooded part of the city. But she couldn't just stay here and protect them either. As callous as it sounded, she had bigger things to do than play bodyguard.

In the end, all she could do was to hand her sword to the calmest looking one and point them in the direction her and Eric had come from. There were less demons that way, so they might actually have a chance. When she told them they'd have to find a safe place to ride this out and fight anything that came at them, they looked at her like she was crazy. And worse, they looked betrayed. Like she'd just sent them out to a firing squad. That's what it felt like, too. Part of her curled in on itself and cracked apart as she watched them leave. She was the Slayer, but she was also a _protector_. And she felt like she'd just failed miserably.

"There's nothing else you could've done for them," Eric spoke up softly from behind her.

His voice already sounded older, more weary, adding another load of guilt to the growing pile. She knew he was right, there was not really any other option. All she could do was try and figure out what was going on and fix it. Still, his words, aimed at soothing her, just made her feel worse. _She_ was supposed to be looking out for _him_. Yet she'd dragged him here, forced him into a war, and somehow made _him_ feel like he had to protect _her_.

She fingered the ring on her hand, thinking of sending him back. She couldn't go with him, but at least he'd have a chance there. He'd be better off with witches and police after him than Hell itself. His hand wrapping around her wrist snapped her attention back to him. Her eyes raised to meet his and another flash of guilt flared to life at the way the childlike innocence had already faded to something harder, more serious.

"Don't," he said, deadly serious. "I'll not go back without you and I know you won't leave until you've done everything you can here."

She dropped her eyes, ashamed at being so transparent, but nodded her agreement. Not that she had much choice, she thought bitterly. She'd surprised him before, tackling him into the portal. No way would she be able to pull that off again. And she couldn't leave a portal between his world and here hanging open while she tried to wrestle him in there, not with demons around every corner.

His large palm slid into hers, warmer than usual from the heat in the air, but still much cooler than her own sweltering skin. His fingers intertwined with hers as she looked up at him in surprise. His head ducked down quickly, brushing his lips over hers in a light, chaste kiss before straightening and giving her a reassuring smile.

"Come, let's finish this. Then you can tell me why I was such a fool as to only have you as a friend and not a lover," he said, tugging her hand and moving toward their destination again.

The harsh bite of her failures still ate at her, but her lips twitched in amusement anyway.

"Don't worry, I think you were aiming in that direction," she said, enjoying the feeling of his hand in hers.

"That's a relief. I'd hate to think I was a complete idiot."

"No, not a _complete_ idiot."

He gave her a playful growl, his eyes losing some of that serious edge. She had a brief moment where her stomach did a little flippy-flop, then a harsh screech ripped through the air above them. They both jerked their heads up at the same time as a huge shadow fell across the street.

A dragon.

It was a huge freaking _dragon_… So red it made the sky look pale in comparison, it was almost the size of an airplane. Dark eyes swiveled toward them as it went over and Buffy swore it looked surprised for a moment. Then it was wheeling around, coming back toward them with more agility that anything that size had the right to possess.

They barely had time to dive out of the street into an alley before the burst of fire engulfed the area. Even though the flames themselves flowed past their alcove, the intense heat blasted over them, making Buffy clench her eyes shut and lose her breath for a moment. Eric had covered her body with his own, plastering her against the brick wall like he was an undead shield.

"I hate it when they try to set me on fire," she grouched, peeking under Eric's arm back toward the street. "Almost as much as I hate getting shot at."

That was when she noticed the slight trembling in Eric's frame. Her first thought was, _Oh crap, dragons were the straw that broke the vampires psyche_. That was it, he'd seen demons, and dead bodies and tentacle monsters, but the dragon was it. But when she looked up at his face, having to slide over slightly so she could see more than just the view of the underside of his chin, it wasn't fear or shock she saw on his face. It wasn't even hunger, which had been her second thought - that after seeing all those bloody bodies, now here he was all pressed up against a fresh meal, after all.

Nope, it wasn't either of those things she saw on Eric's face. It was fury. He just looked _pissed._

There was a slight sound of metal brushing brick as he stepped away from her, the sword gripped tightly in his hand steady despite his trembling.

"I'll take care of this," he said flatly, not even looking at her.

Then he was gone.

Her mouth dropped open and she looked around frantically.

"Eric!" She yelled, panic clawing up her throat. "Eric, you get your ass back down here, right now!"

The only answer was a sudden animalistic shriek from above. She darted out of the alley into the scorched street to get a better view. There, about a hundred feet up and climbing, was the dragon, tilting and swooping dangerously.

"Oh, shit…"

She took of at a run toward the heart of the battle, where the dragon was aimed. She only paused once, when a huge demon in some kind of armor got in her way. She jumped up and planted both feet on its chest, her momentum combined with her strength enabling her to knock it to the ground. Then she took its weapon, a big double sided axe, and kept on going, not even bothering to kill it.

Her path led her to a large mass of demons that seemed to all be clamoring to get into an alley. Unable to get through the crowd and not willing to lose sight of her target, she decided to go over them. Launching herself up, she landed on the back of something broad and hairy and kept going, her feet hitting heads, shoulders and backs as she kept moving forward, determined to keep that dragon in her sights.

Suddenly her stepping stones ran out and she leapt, trying to keep herself from falling face first on the ground and cursing herself for looking up more than forward. She hit the ground and rolled quickly to her feet, her axe already swinging toward the incoming threat of a demon with way too many eyes. Her blow split the things head open, but before she could tug the axe completely free, she felt another threat from behind her. Allowing her instincts control of her movements, she left one hand on the axe and spun, catching an incoming fist with her free hand just before it could hit her face.

She gritted her teeth as she felt the tiny bones in her hand splinter at the force of the blow, but she just pushed it away, squeezing the offending hand and pressing back, refusing to give an inch. Her feet slid on the blood soaked gravel of the alley floor slightly and she bore down harder both on her attackers hand and with her feet.

"Buffy?"

Her concentration slipped at the sound of the familiar voice, allowing the fist to move forward another inch before she stopped it. She'd never thought she'd hear that voice again. Even after Andrew has spilled the beans, telling them that Spike was still alive and hanging out at Wolfram and Hart. Even then, she'd never planned on seeing him again. Angry and feeling betrayed, insignificant, she'd vowed not to go see him, not even to give him a piece of her mind like she'd so wanted to.

Risking a glance to her right, she saw the shocked face of Spike, blood splattered, his white-blond hair mussed from fighting, but very much alive (or undead, really), staring at her like _he_ was the one seeing a ghost.

"You know this creature?" An empty voice asked from the other side of the fist she was keeping at bay.

"Uh, yeah. Yeah, Blue, she's one of ours," he said distractedly, his eyes never leaving Buffy's face.

"She is mocking me."

Buffy bristled at the lie. "I am _not_. I don't even know you," she said, tipping her head to the side to see the speaker from behind their battling hands. "I haven't said one-"

Then she saw that her attacker was blue.

"Oh… Okay. I can see how you'd think that now," Buffy said with a grimace. "But I swear, this is just a coincidence. I just got in the way of some shoddy spell work. Now can we stop with the arm wrestling? Or can we at least move on to a more interesting form of fighting?"

The other woman dropped her arm, allowing Buffy to do the same. She was about Buffy's size, but gave off a raw feeling of power so potent that even her mixed up Slayer senses could feel it. Whatever this thing was, it was far from human.

"You are strong," it said, its unblinking eyes focused on her.

"Uh, yeah," Buffy answered. "You, too."

"Are you a god?"

Buffy blinked at the odd, random question, a quote from Ghostbusters suddenly popping into her head. Winston, yelling at Ray, "If someone asks you if you're a god, you say YES!"

"Um, that's kinda personal, and I don't really know you…" She answered instead, taking a moment to pull her axe the rest of the way free from the demon behind her in case a giant marshmallow man were to appear. The blue thing seemed satisfied with this answer though and, after one last intense look, turned without a word and waded back into the fighting.

"Buffy…" Her name, spoken like a prayer and a plea all in one, drew her attention back to Spike. "How did- Where did- What are you doing here?"

Before she could answer, a black blur flew between them, hitting the ground with a pained "oomph."

"Son of a-" Angel groaned, staggering to his feet with a hand on his lower back like an old man. "Where do these guys keep coming from? Does Wolfram and Hart own an interdimensional Demons-R-Us?"

"Probably closer to a DemonMart," Buffy said thoughtfully. "Like a one-stop-shop for all things demon-y and hell-like."

Angel's head jerked up at the sound of her voice, his eyes just as wide and face just as shocked as Spike's had been.

"Buffy…"

If guys kept saying her name like that, she really was going to start feeling like she was a god…

"Hey," she said, giving a little wave with her gory axe. "Thought I'd stop in for a little visit. Gotta say, L.A.'s really lost a lot of its charm. Think I'm gonna have to file a complaint with the visitor's bureau."

Punctuating her statement was the sudden crash of the dragon she'd been looking for right into the horde of demons filling the one end of the alley. Bodies were crushed, some flew threw the air, dust and bricks from the surrounding buildings rained down around them. When it settled, Buffy could see that the huge body of the dragon had killed all the opponents near them, the rest were trapped on the other side of where it had fallen. Part of the building to the left had collapsed with the impact, blocking the way even more thoroughly than the dragons body did. It wouldn't permanently keep them out, but it would keep them busy for a while as they tried to dig through or climb over.

And there was Eric standing on top of the downed serpent, grinning widely, fangs on display and his whole body giving off a proud aura - like a cat that just brought a really big rat home to its owner. He made quite the picture with his sword and conquered foe, not to mention his too tight tie-died shirt and painted on sweatpants.

"What the- _I_ wanted to slay the dragon," Angel complained, throwing his arms out to his sides.

Buffy ignored him, instead stomping over to Eric, trampling over the dead demons without a second thought.

"Don't you _ever_ do that again!" She yelled, shaking her axe at him. "Do you know how worried I was? You could've been killed! What if-"

Her tirade was abruptly cut off when Eric, who'd been up on the dragon looking completely unfazed by her scolding, was suddenly in front of her, sweeping her into his arms and kissing her passionately. It was over before Buffy even really processed what was happening, and she found herself staring up into Eric's grinning face dazedly.

"That was _amazing_," he said almost sound giddy, the childlike light back in his eyes.

"Uh-huh," Buffy said, not sure if he was talking about the kiss or the dragon slayage. She had a feeling it was the latter and didn't want to take the hit to her ego.

A poignant cough came from behind her, followed by a slightly growly, "Care to introduce us, _love_?"

The sound of Spike's voice was like a bucket of cold water, jerking her back into reality from the floaty place Eric's kiss had left her.

Great, this was _just _what she needed. An amnesiac vampire with no sense of self-preservation and a city infested with demons wasn't enough. She needed a jealous ex or two thrown on top like a cherry on a sundae.

She turned to see Spike eyeing Eric with narrowed eyes, his lip curled back in a snarl. Angel next to him, body tense and his hand clenched around a sword. Eric slipped his hand into Buffy's, completely oblivious (or maybe not, maybe pushing peoples buttons was something that was built into him and it had nothing to do with memories…).

Buffy tilted her head back, looking up at the red sky, and cursed the Powers That Be.


	24. Chapter 24

**Chapter Twenty-Four**

The sounds of scratching and scrambling on the other side of the dead dragon were the only noise in the alley. Demons trying to climb over, dig under or tear through the thing blocking them from their targets. The blue woman stood in front of the carcass, perfectly still. Like a dog waiting to catch sight of a rabbit it can hear but can't see yet. Buffy let her eyes linger there, wondering who (and what) she was, instead of dealing with the two vampires in front of her, waiting for an explanation about the one beside her.

"Will there be more dragons?" Eric asked suddenly, breaking the tense silence.

"If there are, _I'll_ be slaying them," Angel said.

"He can slay them if he wants," Buffy shot back, feeling defensive on Eric's behalf. "They're not _your_ dragons."

"The hell they aren't, this is _my_ fight, therefore, _my _dragons!"

"Just like this is _your_ city?" She bit out, anger creeping up and replacing discomfort. "The one currently being sucked into Hell?"

"Sucked into-"

"Bloody hell," Spike said, drawing their attention as he stared up at the red sky. Angel followed his gaze, mouth dropping open.

"That's right, the city. Is. Being. Sucked. Into. Hell. Demons are everywhere. People are dying, Angel. It's bad."

She felt a pang of guilt as he looked back at her, stricken. "I didn't know- Didn't mean…"

"What's going on here?" She asked, voice softening. "What happened?"

"We took on Wolfram and Hart. I guess they're not too happy with us right now," Spike replied, lighting up a cigarette while Angel tried to pull himself together.

"I think that's an understatement," Buffy muttered.

"I knew they'd come after us, but… The whole city?" Angel sounded so lost, defeated, that Buffy took a step toward him, but was hindered by Eric's hand, tightening on her own.

"I keep making the wrong choices," he went on, eyes on the sky again. "I couldn't save Doyle, or Cordy, or Fred. Now Wesley's gone and people are dying…"

"Angel," Buffy said, her throat tightening at the despair coating his words. But she didn't offer any platitudes, no empty words of comfort would make him feel better. They wouldn't help, she knew from experience. And Wesley… Her eyes burned at the news of his death. Eric's hand squeezed hers and she returned the gesture, suddenly very grateful for his grip on her.

"People are always dying, man. That's what we do. Doesn't mean we give up," a weak voice came from the left alley wall.

There, a young blood soaked black man sat, his dark skin an unhealthy ashen color. But his eyes burned brightly, determined and unwavering.

"Good to see you're still with us, Charlie," Spike said with a tip of his cig toward the other.

"Just needed a little breather is all," he said with a pained shrug.

He was dying. His words and will were strong, but Buffy could tell. So could Angel, his anguished gaze landed on her again and she could read it plain as day. He was going to lose yet another person.

"Maybe I can get ahold of Willow, ask her-"

"Don't bother," Angel spat, his despair turning to anger on a dime. "We know perfectly well where your Slayers and Council stand where we're concerned."

Buffy gaped at him, and then looked to Spike, at least expecting some words of protest from him. He'd worked with her and the Scoobies after all, saved the world with them. He had to know they would've been there had they known. Even if Buffy herself had been unreachable, Xander would've sent a team, Willow would've put her vacation on hold, help would've come.

But Spike just looked avoided her eyes, offing no support.

"You can't seriously believe we would've just willingly let the city get sucked into Hell," she said, shaking her head slightly. "A fight against evil on this scale? It's pretty much our specialty."

"You made it very clear that you didn't trust us anymore, Buffy," Angel said, already losing his steam and sounding more sad than angry now.

"You mean because of Dana," Buffy guessed, her own anger mounting where Angel's was dropping.

Her body went stiff with the mention of the broken Slayer and she yanked her hand out of Eric's grasp to take a menacing step toward Angel. She hadn't actually heard about the situation until _after_ it had all gone down, but she didn't feel the urge to point that out because it would make it seem like she didn't agree with the decision the others had come to. And she did.

"You seriously think the best place for a Slayer with no sense of reality is at _Wolfram and Hart_?" Buffy asked, her brow raised and her arms crossing over her chest. "You think because you guys were the ones that found her that, what? You have _dibs_? She's a mentally damaged girl with super powers, Angel. Why in the hell would we leave her in Camp Evil? Where else in the world could she possible go but with us?"

"It's not about- You didn't trust me, Buffy. You _don't_ trust me."

"This isn't about _you_!" Buffy exploded, throwing her arms out. She took a deep breath and tried to continue more calmly. "I love you, Angel. Part of me always will. But this _has_ to stop. Everything is _not_ about you, not your responsibility. It's like you have this crazy, masochistic, narcissistic streak, and it's going to break you."

"Narcissistic-" He started, looking completely blown away and ignoring Spike's snort. "All I've ever tried to do is help people, Buffy."

"You couldn't stay with me because _you_ decided it was what was best for me," she said ticking off a point on her fingers. "_Your_ city, _your_ fight, _your_ dragon, _your_ Buffy, _your_ Slayer because you found her, _your_ pride in refusing to call for help. All those things aren't _your_ responsibility alone. And there's also _your_ guilt, Angel. The city is getting sucked into hell and all you can think about is _your_ mistakes. You can't- you just can't shoulder all of that…"

"Don't forget about the kid," Spike said, flicking his cigarette butt away and looking like he was thoroughly enjoying Buffy's dressing down of the other vampire. "Decided he should be livin' a normal life and made him forget all about his roots. Not to mention he erased everyone else's memory of the brat too."

"Shut _up_, Spike," Angel growled at the same time Buffy asked, "What kid?" and the bleeding guy muttered "Oh hell…".

Angel looked so uncomfortable she thought he might just climb over the dead dragon and face the masses of evil instead of staying to face this conversation.

Spike looked like Christmas had come early.

"She's right, Angel," the wounded guy said from his place on the ground before Buffy could ask any more about it. "If I'm going out, I don't wanna be remembered as the guy that died because of someone else. I made my own choices, man. Walked my own path. And to say that Cordy or Wes or Fred did any different is a freakin' insult to their memory. You think any of them want to be remembered as your screw-up?"

"Yeah, have some goddamned respect," Spike taunted, but his tone lacked its usual sharpness.

"Speaking of respect," Buffy said, turning her wrath on the blond vampire. "Didn't you think a phone call would've been nice? Maybe letting me know that you were _alive_? I had to hear it from _Andrew_ of all people."

Spike cringed, his cocky demeanor falling away now that his failings were the focus of Buffy's attention.

"Love, listen, I just-"

"Save it," she said, waving her hand at him with an eye roll. "I don't want to hear about why you thought it was best for me. I'm so sick of people thinking _I_ can't decide what's best for _myself_."

"They are coming," the blue thing interrupted from where it was still stationed near the corpse of the dragon. "Your pathetic human emotions will have to be dealt with later. If you do not die. It is time to fight."

"Ah, Blue, you really do have a way of stabbing straight to the heart of the matter," Spike said, hefting his sword again, but looking a little more subdued.

They all turned toward the body of the dragon. Now that they'd stopped bickering, they could hear the sound of the demons had gotten louder and they could see the rubble from the building shaking a little, stones falling loose from the assault on the other side. Eric stood close to her, but didn't reach for her hand again and didn't ask any questions about what he'd heard. Buffy cringed mentally, knowing that probably wouldn't last. If they made it out of this alive, she'd have a lot of explaining to do. But for now he just faced forward, looking eager for the chance at more fighting. She'd have to make sure she kept an eye on him…

"How did you end up here anyway?" Angel asked, seeming to be a little more together now. "Last we heard you were living it up in Rome with The Immortal."

"With the Immortal? Me? I was in Rome a while ago visiting Dawn, but I've never even met The Immortal. Not that I wouldn't like to. The things I've heard…."

"We saw you... Dancing with him in a club," Angel put in. He sounded a little sulky, but Buffy would take Sulky Angel over I'm Going to Throw Myself off a Cliff Angel any day.

"Dancing? Oh, that's probably one of those doubles Xander insists on. He thinks I'm a target or something because I'm the original Slayer, so he tosses doubles of me around the world like bread crumbs. She was with the Immortal? That is so unfair…" Buffy's words drifted off as she recalled the stories of the super-hot, sexual dynamo The Immortal was rumored to be.

"But Andrew said-"

"Drama Queen Andrew? Seriously? Let me guess, you two heard I was cozy with the Immortal, ran off to Rome and ran into Andrew. And you expect him to _not_ get all caught up in the whole 'two past loves show up in a jealous frenzy' thing? It's _Andrew_. He's probably writing a smutty book about it right now…"

Buffy shook her head as they two of them scuffed their shoes on the pavement and looked anywhere but at her. Idiots.

"And what about your friend, here?" Spike said suddenly, eyeing Eric while he aimed the conversation elsewhere.

"This is Eric," she answered shortly. "And I think we have more important things to worry about right now than who I'm hanging around with and what you think about it. It's none of your business anyway."

"But he's…" Angel waved a hand around. "Eating my cookie dough!"

"_Your_ cookie dough? I never said I was _your_ cookie dough! Just doughy in general."

"Man, you should never assume a girls dough is yours. Rookie mistake," the wounded guy said, taking up a hunched over position beside them while Angel mumbled about it being assumed that the cookies would be his when they were done.

"Charles Gunn," he said with a nod to her. "It's nice to finally put a face to the name after all these years. I'd shake your hand, but I think it's kind of holding in some important stuff right now."

"Nice to meet you, Charles," Buffy said with a nod back. What she really wanted to say was that he should find a quiet place and sit this one out, but she held her tongue. Mostly because it was his choice, not hers, and she'd be a hypocrite to say anything after the conversation they'd just had about people making decisions for themselves. But also because they needed any bit of help they could get. Hell was on the other side, after all, clamoring to get through and tear them apart.

"Just Gunn is fine," he said and that was that. They turned back to the wall over the dragon that was collapsing slowly but surely in front of them.

"We need some kind of plan," she said, watching a large hunk of brick fall away and a sharp clawed hand reach through. "Something other than 'fight until we die'."

"I like the plan of 'kill them all' best," Blue put in.

"Me too," Eric agreed, he turned to grin at her, fangs fully extended and eyes glowing slightly.

"What the hell-" Angel and Spike both said at the same time, finally noticing Eric's… _difference_.

But that was when the wall came down and the demons came pouring back into the alley.

"Saved by the hell spawn," she muttered, then dove into the fray, her stolen axe cutting through her enemies with ease.

She positioned herself a little in front of Gunn, trying to protect him without being obvious about it. She took out what demons she could before they got to him - letting him take care of the stragglers that got by her. He didn't complain. She also kept an eye on Eric, but soon saw that it was pointless. He was so incredibly _fast_. And just brutally lethal. He mowed down the opposition with skill that was just scary. She was really glad he was on their side…

The same could be said for the blue woman. But while Eric moved with a smooth, animalistic grace despite his size, she was all barely contained power. Not a move was wasted - no spinning, flipping or jumping from her unless it was absolutely necessary. She cut down demon after demon without so much as a flicker of expression, her moves mechanically precise.

The fight went on and on. Time lost meaning and the bodies continued to pile up, forcing them to fight on top of them for a while and then fall back to more level ground. Everyone seemed to be wearing down, except Eric and Blue. She really wasn't sure how much longer the wounded guy would be able to hold out. She'd doubled her efforts at keeping him from getting overwhelmed, but she was still slowing.

"Look out!"

Gunn's call from behind her came a second too late and the tail of something about twenty feet tall struck her in the chest, sending her flying backwards over a chain-link fence that blocked one end of the alley. She faintly wondered how long they had before the demons realized there was another entrance and came at them from this direction too, but mostly she just concentrated on getting the air back that she'd lost.

"Buffy."

At first she thought it was Spike, calling to her from the fight with that slight British slant to her name.

"Buffy."

But then she realized that it was much closer. And that, even though the voice was familiar, it wasn't Spike. Blinking the spots out of her eyes, she looked over to see a familiar suited figure crouched down beside her.

"Wesley!" She gasped, struggling up to her elbows. "I thought you were-"

"Dead?" He asked bluntly, his expression shuttered. "I am. You need to come with me."

"You are? I need to do what now? Sorry, I think I hit my head…"

"They want to meet with you," he said, standing and walking away.

"Hey, wait," she said, trying to snag the back of his pant leg, but he was already too far. "Who wants to meet with me? And are you dead or not? Am _I _dead?"

But he didn't answer, just kept walking away. She cast an indecisive look over at the fighting, biting her lip. She needed to stay, look out for Eric. Not to mention Spike, Angel and Gunn… But, what was Wesley doing there? And dead? And who wanted to meet with her? Was there a chance she could find something to fix what was going on here if she went with him?

She stumbled to her feet and ran after him. She hated leaving them behind, but they could fight the hordes of hell for days and not get anywhere. If there was a chance to find out more about what was going on… she had to take it. The rest of the people in the city were counting on her. She'd just have to trust the others to take care of themselves for a little while.

She ran hard after Wesley's distant suited figure, but it seemed no matter how fast she went she couldn't catch up to him. She watched in confusion as he seemed to barely be moving, more like he was taking a stroll through a park instead of hellish, demon infested streets. Yet she never got any closer. What was weirder was that none of the demons went after either her or Wesley. At first she panicked a little, thinking maybe she really was dead and they couldn't see her. But then she paid a little closer attention and saw that they _did_ in fact see her, they were just staying out of her way.

That was convenient, but… disturbing.

When they finally reached their destination, Wesley disappearing behind a couple broken glass doors, Buffy was clutching a cramp in her side and breathing heavily. It was way too freaking hot for this crap… But at least she knew now where he'd been leading her. Who it was that wanted to meet with her. And why none of the demons had dared to interfere with her on the way there. Somehow they'd known their bosses were waiting for her.

Wolfram and Hart.

She stared at the building warily, feeling like it was looking right back at her, and made no move to follow Wesley inside. Well, she'd wanted a way to stop this, to help everyone. What better way than by confronting the ones that had caused it?

She huffed out a humorless laugh at herself - she should've been more careful what she wished for.

When the stitch in her side had faded and her breathing had settled back into its normal rhythm, she made up her mind and walked toward the broken front doors. The inside was a mess. Collapsed columns and beams, ceiling tiles and drywall dust, broken lighting and busted windows - she wasn't sure if a massive fight had gone on there or if the "senior partners", as she'd heard them referred to, had just had a major hissy fit.

She tried to recall everything Giles had told her about them - she'd pestered him unmercifully for details after she'd learned of Angel's new position - but all she could really remember was that they were really high up on the interdimensional bad guy food chain; they hardly ever appeared in this plane of existence, instead using conduits to convey their wishes; and that they had major pull in both demonic and human circles. Big bads that chipped away at this world and others little by little, feeding on despair and hate, instead of focusing on grand schemes to end humanity.

Giles had looked at her seriously and told her that they weren't a foe that could be fought against. Or at least not fought against with any chance at winning. That all they could do was stop the evil that they brought about in their world as it came - a day to day fight that would never end. As long as there was good there was evil and blah blah blah. A younger Buffy might've rallied against that pessimistic, doomsday approach. But an older and wiser Buffy knew the truth of it. There would always be a fight.

She remembered hoping that Angel knew what he was getting into. Not so much apparently. Maybe she should've spent more time checking up on him and his gang instead of dimension hopping…

Movement caught her attention further into the building, pulling her out of her tumbling thoughts and away from the abyss of guilt waiting for her to take notice of it. A flickering light (maybe from a generator, or maybe just fueled by pure evil) showed a door closing near the rear wall. The little sign on it labeled it as the stairway.

"Of course they wouldn't lower themselves to meeting someone in the lobby," she muttered, marching toward the stairs.

She didn't bother looking at floor numbers, she figured Wesley - or the thing they'd sent to retrieve her that _looked_ like Wesley - would let her know when she was on the right floor. Sure enough, just when she was starting to wonder if the stairs ever ended, she saw a door opening out into a hall.

Her steps were silent on the debris dusted carpet, slow and cautious. The lighting was sporadic and still flickering slightly, but it was more than enough for her to take in her surroundings. This floor was made up of a large wide open main area with doors and halls, probably leading to offices, on its edges. Wood and steel made up most of the surfaces and it gave off a modern and tastefully expensive feel. Right now it was a mess though. There had _definitely_ been a fight in there. She could see crushed parts of walls where bodies had obviously hit, a dented elevator door and random splotches of blood.

And there, in the middle of all the chaos, were three immaculately dressed men.

The one on the left was medium height with a medium build. He had somewhat wild silver hair, which somehow went perfectly and clashed with his custom tailored suit at the same time. He stood completely still, arms crossed over his chest as he stared at her.

The one in the middle was shorter and stocky with bristly brown hair. He looked at her from under heavy brows as he leaned against a cracked column with his hands in his pockets.

The last was long and lean. Fawn colored hair that looked touchably soft fell in a perfectly messy way across his forehead. He was seated on one of the broken beams, legs crossed at the knee while he drew in the dust with his pointer finger. He looked up, offering her a charming smile when he saw her.

All of their eyes were pitch black.

She studied them again, one at a time, realization dawning.

"The Wolf," she whispered. The silver haired man inclined his head slightly. "The Ram." The stocky one in the middle gave a slight grunt. "And the Hart." The charming smile widened on the last one's face, like a teacher proud of a particularly bright student.

"Well, looks like Price isn't completely useless after all," the Ram said, his voice low and sardonic as he cast a glance over to a corner where Wesley stood with his hands clasped behind his back.

Buffy eyed him in confusion. So it really _was_ Wesley... Why was he playing errand boy?

"When you agree to work for us, it's more than just a lifetime arrangement," the Wolf answered her unasked question.

And with that statement, Buffy noticed that Wesley didn't seem quite… solid. Here in the flickering light, with drywall dust floating in the air, she could almost see _through_ him. Her stomach dropped. He was _stuck_? Working for _them_? _Forever_?

"Oh, Wesley…" She whispered, her throat tight. For someone who knew what was waiting 'beyond', the thought of being stuck here indefinitely was nothing short of horrifying.

His expression flickered slightly at the sound of her choked pity, softening as he finally looked directly at her.

"I knew what I was signing up for, Buffy."

"Leave us," the Ram said suddenly. And Wesley was gone, just like that.

Anger coursed through Buffy's veins and she welcomed it, let if fuel the Slayer inside her. Her hands tightened into trembling fists at her sides and she wished more than anything that she hadn't left her axe behind in that alley when she went running after Wesley.

"You're angry," the Hart spoke up, his voice was soft and almost sounded sad.

Buffy wasn't buying it.

"Let's see - you killed my friend, then made him into your ghost-y slave, you've set an assload of demons on people I care about and you're sucking the whole city into Hell. So, yeah, I'm a little pissy."

"But we are the wronged party here," the Hart went on in a maddeningly calm and persuasive voice. "We were the ones betrayed. Things were going along fine until Angel and his team turned against us. You expect us to do nothing? To let them just walk away after that? Everything that's happening right now is due to their own actions."

"You can't be surprised," she said, shaking her head. "With the things that went on here, how long did you really expect them to just ignore it?"

"It's what they agreed," the Wolf said flatly with a dispassionate shrug. "They were not forced into their positions. They chose to be there. They agreed to the terms. Then broke them."

"You can't just-"

She stopped and took a deep breath. Arguing with them would get her nowhere. Because, technically, they were right. Angel and his team had walked in there and signed up, knowing the risks. But that didn't mean that Buffy was just going to let them, or the whole city, die because of it.

"I want the demons called off. I want the city back to normal. And I want _you_ three to crawl back under whatever interdimensional rock you crawled out from under."

The Ram barked out a harsh laugh while the Wolf just raised an eyebrow. The Hart smiled kindly at her, like a parent indulging a child's eccentricities.

"Listen to the little Slayer, giving orders like she's anything," the Ram sneered.

"I fought the Master, I killed Angelus, I faced off against a god and I sent the First packing. You think you scare me? Three escapees from the demonic petting zoo? Think again."

"You're right. You did face all of them. And you died," the Hart said mildly with a little shrug. "Then you broke, then you died _again_, then you had an army and destroyed an entire town. Hardly the stellar record you seem to think it is."

"And I'll die again if I have to," she said, her voice hard. "You think that it'll stop with me? You know how many more Slayers are out there now, don't you? They'll come and they won't stop. It's not 'one girl in all the world' any more. They'll flood this place and Willow will make sure there's nowhere left for you to hide. They'll chase you out into the light of day and tear you apart."

"Because of you?" The Ram asked. He was going for mocking but the he fell just short. "You certainly think highly of yourself."

"No, not because of me. Because that's what we do. They'll come here for these people, for the innocent and not so innocent, and they won't stop until they destroy you."

"Now, now, there's no need for such threats," the Hart said, his expression still benevolent but also a little strained. "We actually asked you here because we are perfectly aware of how badly things can go if your little Slayer army were to get involved. _You_ were not supposed to be here. We have no problem with you or yours."

He uncrossed his long legs and stood up then, moving toward her with steps that were almost awkward and too long, like he wasn't used to being in that shape. His face was pulled into a semblance of regret and his head was cocked to the side. If it weren't for those horrible black eyes she might've even believed he felt bad.

"We never intended on waging war with your Council," the Wolf said. "We are well aware of the losses both sides would incur and wish to avoid such a battle."

"Not that we'd lose, but time is money as they say," the Ram put in with a scowl.

The Hart had stopped its movement a few feet from her. The malevolence it poured into the air around it was staggering and it took every ounce of control Buffy had not to take three large steps back just so she could breathe properly again.

"We'll give you what you want - the city restored, the demon's recalled. And while we can't restore Wesley's life, we can free his soul."

"And the catch?" Buffy asked, knowing what was coming even before she asked.

"Angel," the Wolf said. "The safety of the city and its residents, the other survivors of the fight going on in the alley and the release of Price's soul in exchange for Angel."

Buffy looked between them - the Wolf's cold logic, the Hart's false empathy and the Ram's sneering disgust. Unfathomable power flowed through these three. She was weaponless, alone and tired, and the fate of the thousands rested on her decision. Her first love, a man that would always have a place deep in her heart… or the lives of uncountable innocents. Eric, Spike, the blue thing, Gunn. Their fate all rested on her choice. But either way, she was losing. She straightened her shoulders and looked the Hart square in the eyes.

"No deal."

And she attacked.

The Hart was the closest, so he was the one she went for first. Her first strike was caught easily in a well manicured, long fingered hand, but her next hit, made with her free hand, actually made contact. His head snapped to the side, but that was it. The blow didn't even wipe the sad look off his face. He shook his head at her in mock disappointment and the next thing she knew she was flying through the air. She crashed through an already crumbling column and hit the ground on the other side hard, sliding through debris before coming to a stop, staring at the ceiling and trying to figure out where all the air had gone.

"You would chose Angel over the lives of everyone in this city?" The Hart asked, his sincerely confused face appearing over hers. "You are a Slayer… Is it not your duty to protect the innocent?"

"In my experience," she gasped with her first deep breath. "Giving the bad guy the thing he wants most is never a good idea. If you're planning on sparing all these people just to get your hands on him, its only because you need him for something bigger and badder."

She rolled to her feet and was immediately caught by the throat by the Ram. He lifted her off the floor, feet dangling and hands grabbing at his wrist.

"You don't have your magic little weapon this time, Slayer," he said. "Not so easy when you don't have an ancient mystical power backing you up, is it?"

"A Scythe doesn't make a Slayer, a Slayer makes a Scythe," she said in her best Zen voice, even though it was kinda choked. Honestly, she would've loved to have the Scythe right about then, but there wasn't much she could do about that.

She brought her feet up and planted them hard on his chest. He took a step back and released her throat, but that was the only reaction. She couldn't find it in her to be disappointed though - at least she could breathe again.

"Come now, this is absurd," the Hart said from the side, his hands out to his sides. "You have to know you can't possibly beat us like this. You might as well just be killing all these people with your own two hands."

The words were spoken mildly, but they stabbed through Buffy with a vengeance. Was she sure she was doing the right thing here? Hell no. But she absolutely believed that she couldn't just hand Angel over to these things. If they'd asked her to kill him to save everyone… Well, she wasn't sure she was strong enough to do that again either honestly, but there was a much better chance of her agreeing to that than this. They obviously had some very big plans for Angel - plans that she was very worried would put a lot more than just a city full of people in danger if they got their hands on him.

"You can't have him," she said, her voice rough from being choked. "See, I'm not really one to settle for second best. I already told you what I wanted - the city restored, the demons recalled and Wesley free. You want to go after Angel when that's all done, be my guest, but don't think I'll make it easy on you."

"You insolent little insignificant creature," the Ram growled, his voice going so deep it was almost unintelligible. "You have no bargaining power here. We offered you a deal. You refused. Now we'll kill you, kill anyone that comes here after you, and take Angel anyway. How's that?"

"Not gonna happen," she tossed back, her voice just as low and furious as his. "You want a war? We can give you that. Won't be our first and won't be our last. You'll just be a speed bump."

She spun and ducked under a swing aimed at her from behind. The Wolf was there, watching her with cold, hard features painted with disapproval but with no real anger. She came up with a side kick that he took without so much as blinking, even though Buffy was sure she could hear bones snapping with the impact. Then suddenly, with no idea how she got there, she was flying through the air again. She hit the already dented elevator door with a deafening clang and an ominous tearing of metal.

There was a terrible moment of weightlessness and she had one second to think with disgust - "I'm going to fall down an elevator shaft… I'm going out like a soap opera character instead of a Slayer…" Then she shot her hand out, gripping the torn metal edges of the door, stopping her descent with a jarring yank and a sharp pain as ragged metal tore into her palm.

She was just starting to pull herself up when a hand clamped down on her wrist. She closed her eyes, not really surprised. This was it, one of them was going to pry her hand off and just let her fall. How embarrassingly easy…

But when she opened her eyes, willing to at least look at the face of her killer. It wasn't the Wolf, the Ram or the Hart that she saw. It was Eric. His face was paler than usual, his jaw clenched tightly and a look of strain around his eyes. She couldn't tell if he was scared or furious. Or both. She was far too relieved to spend any more time deciphering it as he pulled her easily back up to solid ground.

Now that the ringing in her ears had lessened and her death wasn't imminent, the sounds of fighting became very obvious. Looking around Eric's broad shoulder, she saw Angel and Spike and the blue woman all fighting against the senior partners. They weren't having much more luck than she'd had, but it was enough to keep them occupied for the moment. Off to the side, the wounded guy sat against a wall. She couldn't tell if he was alive anymore from where she was standing, but she had to assume he was since they'd brought him with them.

"How'd you-"

"We followed your scent," Eric said quietly. "You're hurt…"

And she realized she was. Blood was dripping into her left eye and off her right hand. Plus she just _ached_, but getting thrown around a room could do that to a person. All in all, she thought she was pretty lucky actually. At least so far. The chances of her, or any of them really, getting out of there were slim to none. She looked up at Eric then, a crushing feeling filling her chest. How could she ever tell him how sorry she was for bringing him here? That she just wanted to keep him safe, but instead she'd pretty much guaranteed him a messy death?

"I'm so sorry…" She choked out, her eyes hot and throat tight.

That was as far as she got though, because Eric was suddenly tossed out of the way like he was nothing and the Hart stood in his place. He'd given up on his placid, kind expressions and instead looked terrifyingly furious. His form seemed to waver slightly, the shape he was in flickering with his rage in a way that was completely unnatural and actually made her a little queasy.

"Is this what you wanted Slayer? A fight to the end? A _glorious_ death in battle while you defied the forces of evil with your very last breath? No compromise, no give, no _'settling'_ for second best? Well congratulations. You'll be dead in moments. That one," he said, his hand shooting out lightning fast and snatching up the front of her shirt, turning her to forcibly look at Gunn's slumped figure against the wall. "has held on admirably, but how much longer do you think he'll last? That one," he jerked her to look at Blue, who was fighting with the equally expressionless Wolf. "Isn't nearly as powerful as she likes to think. Her end won't be far behind. And your two blond vampires will be nothing but dust after being poked with a couple well aimed pieces of wood. Then we'll have Angel anyway, you'll all be dead and the city will _still_ be in Hell. Hope you're happy with your decision."

"He'll die," she said, looking in those furious black eyes with a sudden burst of inspiration. "Angel will die trying to save everyone, and then what will you do? Keep his soul floating around like Wesley? He'll be useless to you and you'll have Slayers and a pissed off super witch hunting you down. All of this will have been for _nothing_."

The Hart stared at her, dawning comprehension coming over his face. Apparently Angel's self sacrificing nature hadn't been something he'd factored in. And in his moment of inattention, Eric tackled him from the side, ripping Buffy's shirt in the process, but freeing her from his grip. She stumbled slightly from the sudden release, but then immediately turned to help Eric.

Just in time to see the Hart knock him to his knees and take his sword.

Buffy wasn't sure if she actually yelled "NO" out loud or not as he pulled that sword back, aiming for Eric's throat, but it echoed loudly in her own head. She dove forward, feet finding purchase on broken bits of stone and drywall like she'd been fighting on it all her life. She was sure she wouldn't make it in time, she was so terrifyingly sure. But then she there she was, looking at the Hart just a foot away, Eric's presence burning at her back, and a cold heavy feeling filling her stomach. She looked down, her head feeling very heavy for some reason, and saw with no real surprise that sword was buried almost to the hilt in her torso.

The Hart leaned close and she pulled her gaze slowly back up to meet his. Breath that smelled like death brushed her face as he whispered to her.

"You win, Slayer. We can't risk Angel's inner martyr destroying him before we can use him. We'll put the city back, call off the demons. But don't think this is the end. Angel _will_ be ours and there's not a thing you can do to stop it. Because you'll be nothing but bones and dust."

With that last statement he stepped back, yanking the sword out of Buffy with a harsh pull, then was gone. She didn't have to look to know the Wolf and the Ram had disappeared as well. An eerie silence settled over the room, and like a light switch had been flipped, her Slayer senses slid back into place - no longer overwhelmed by the masses of Hell. The temperature also must have dropped almost immediately, because she suddenly felt a little cold. She sighed, relief washing over her. Then she coughed up a mouthful of blood and her knees buckled.

Something caught her before she hit the ground, but she wasn't sure what. Just like she could see and hear the sudden flurry of action around her, but didn't really know what was going on.

Then Eric's face was in front of hers, pale and most definitely scared this time. His blue eyes seemed to ground her, give her something to focus on and pull her thoughts together.

"What have you done?" He said, eyes wide and voice horrified.

"I think I got stabbed," she said, sifting through the pieces and putting them in order. "Better than an elevator shaft…"

Angel and Spike's heads suddenly filled her vision along with Eric's. She laughed at the sight and tasted blood.

"Just hold on, Buffy, we'll get you help, just _hold on_," Spike said, his words tumbling out over each other too fast.

"We got our regular old starless sky back," she heard Gunn call from off to the left. "Looks like Hell took a hike. But its still real messed up out there. I don't think we'll be getting' any life flights any time soon."

Angel didn't say anything. It was like his ability to speak had been sucked away by the sight in front of him. He opened his mouth a few times, but just managed a few muted gasps.

And Eric… Oh, crap Eric…

"You have to go home," she suddenly blurted, staring at him in horror. "If I… Then you'll be stuck here."

"Stuck- Buffy what-" Eric said, his voice shaking.

She wondered briefly if vampires could go into shock, but then concentrated on picturing a place that would be safe for him to portal to. Which turned out to be surprisingly hard. She should've spent more time exploring places _not_ ruled by other vampire rulers. Mississippi, Arkansas, Texas… all out of the question. And Louisiana wasn't much better. She couldn't zap him to her apartment… She was faced with the same problem she'd had with finding a safe place for him before they'd left. Finally, she decided on the place she'd arrived herself when she'd first gotten to the other world - the cemetery. At least it was relatively quiet there and if it happened to be daytime, he could duck into a crypt. At least she _hoped_ he'd have enough sense to get out of the sun…

With the image firmly in her mind, she spun the ring and heard the portal zap into existence.

"What in the bloody-"

She opened her eyes to see Angel and Spike crouched in fighting positions protectively between her and the portal.

"You're from another dimension…" Angel said, realization dawning as he turned to look back at Eric.

Eric though, hadn't even looked at the portal once, his wide worried eyes never strayed from Buffy.

"You have to go back. Pam will fix things and you'll get your memory back. Go now," she said, trying to give him a shove, but failing miserably.

"His world, is it like this one?" Angel asked, speaking fast.

"Yeah, pretty much," Buffy said, then had to pause as a wave of pain ripped through her. Gasping, she added. "Minus the hell part."

"Take her with you," Angel blurted at a startled Eric.

"Are you _mental_?" Spike burst out.

"Things are a mess here, who knows what the hospitals look like. There's no time to- Take her with you and get her help," he said, sounding like it was causing him physical pain to say it. Then he looked down at Buffy, his dark eyes boring into hers. "I just want you to know… I love you. I've always loved you. And I'll never stop."

Then he stood and barked "Go!" at Eric.

Eric, though he still seemed dazed, wasted no time gathering her to him and whirling toward the portal. Too late, Buffy realized this was probably a really bad idea.

"Wait, I can't-"

But then they were surrounded by pink light.

The light was gone as quick as it had come, but it left a searing agony behind that had Buffy curling in on herself with a breathy, choked scream. It felt like she'd been filled with broken glass, twisting and grating against her insides like a living thing. Blood filled her mouth as she writhed and gasped for air. And beyond all that, she very faintly heard Eric's voice.

"Buffy? Why are you bleeding all over me? And what am I _wearing_?"

Then everything went black.


	25. Chapter 25

**Chapter Twenty-Five**

The sounds of the bayou were silent around the small stilted house - animals and insects knowing in that instinctual way that something big and pissed-off was nearby and that they wanted no part of it. It was far from the ideal safe-house, but it was close and the guy that owned it owed Eric, so he'd keep his mouth shut about the tense, blood stained vampire showing up at his door in the middle of the night and telling to leave - he'd done so without hesitation or questions.

Eric sat on the edge of a bed in nothing but a towel, staring down at the worn wooden floor of the one room that made up almost the entire house. The smell of the swamp and cheap bourbon had soaked into every surface, but the only smell that he noticed was that off Buffy's blood. It hung in the air, refusing to leave despite the fact that he'd thrown the odd bloodstained clothes he'd been wearing out into the water, watching as they sunk beneath the surface, then promptly showered.

It set him on edge, that sweet coppery smell. It made him want to break something, or some_one_. And he was hungry. Not a good combination. That reason, along with the complications that would arise because of his presence, were what prompted him to leave Buffy at a hospital in the city then retreat to this place. But even though he knew it was the right decision, the logical choice, he still felt restless and irritable. Like an invisible chain linked them together and the further away he got the more choked and uneasy he felt. Where this feeling had come from was just one of many, _many_ questions he currently had.

Why was he in New Orleans? And in a cemetery? What had happened to Buffy? Why had she been _blue_? Why couldn't he remember? And just what the _hell_ had happened when he'd tried to give her his blood?

His jaw tightened and he abruptly stood from his seated position, taking instead to pacing the length of the room. His long strides ate up the ground, only letting him get five steps in before he had to turn. But he hoped the movement would help the flow of his mind, which with its gaps and confusion seemed slow and dim witted - something he wasn't at all used to and absolutely _hated_.

The last thing he remembered was being in his office. Then, suddenly, he was in a graveyard with Buffy bleeding all over him. It hadn't taken him long to realize the situation was serious - her gasping breaths and the slowing of her heartbeat made that very clear. But he hadn't been overly concerned, a bit of his blood would fix her right up. So, fighting off the hunger that got stronger with each second her blood poured out onto him, he bit into his wrist and put it too her mouth.

It only took three seconds for things to go horribly wrong.

A sudden spike in power had made the very air around them shudder, then she'd jerked upright into a crouched position, whirling on him so fast that even _he'd_ had trouble following her movements. She'd stared at him for a loaded split second - the expression on her face morphing from confusion to predatory in a single sluggish beat of her heart. Usually soft green eyes had been flecked with yellow, wide pupils eating up the iris. Then she'd grinned. In that moment, Eric felt something he hadn't experienced in a long, long time.

Fear.

She'd launched herself at him with incredible speed, hitting him with all the force of a freight train. Small hands had turned into claws of iron as she tore at him in animalistic fury. She'd almost ripped his damn arm off and was going for his throat before he'd managed to even fight back at all. Not that he'd been able to do much. Not with his arm dangling by gristle and cracked bone and her speed and strength increased by such a staggering amount. Just when the thought occurred to him that she might actually kill him, she'd gone rigid, thrown up blood all over him and then went into convulsions, setting off a new kind of fear in him.

After that things just kind of blurred together, a dreamlike, shuttering line of events loosely connected. The majority of his focus had been on not draining her dry as he'd flown with her in his one good arm, head leaning limply against his chest and limbs dangling. The sound of her stuttering heartbeat still echoed in his ears. Somehow, his control won out and he'd managed to get to a hospital. Even more miraculous was that he had the presence of mind to take her cell phone from her pocket before he'd left her in the ambulance bay, leaving no witnesses to identify him except an intern on a smoke break. He'd heard the mans yell for help from inside as he ran off into the night, ensuring him that she was getting care.

His realization that he was in New Orleans had come almost immediately, even with the smell of Buffy's blood burrowing its way into his sanity. He knew he needed to get the hell out of sight, it was a fact that superseded his confusion. Sophie-Anne wasn't something he was ready to deal with right then and the longer he was visible, the better the chances were that he'd run across one of her employees. If he was dragged in to face her, with no answers no less, then he'd never find out about what had happened or if Buffy was alright.

He'd used Buffy's phone to call Fangtasia from the outskirts of the city, taking a minute to stare at the date in confusion. Somehow, three days had passed without his knowledge. Pam had sounded relieved to hear from him, but hadn't given him much information - just asked where Buffy was, cursing about witches when she heard she was in the hospital, then said she'd meet him at the safe-house before hanging up. Furious at the outstanding lack of information he'd just gotten, he'd redialed the bar, getting Gerald for some reason instead of Pam, and being informed that she'd already left in the few seconds that it took him to call back. Snarling, he'd asked for Chow, determined to get some answers. But apparently Chow was dead…

After hearing that, he'd decided to just wait on Pam.

His steps continued to carry him back and forth across the worn, pitted floor silently as he spent the time waiting for his second to arrive uselessly trying to put together a puzzle where he was missing the majority of the pieces. The frustration at not knowing what had happened combined with the ever increasing rasp on his nerves caused by Buffy's absence, condition and the lingering scent of her blood clawed at him more and more as time ticked by.

He was so worked up by the time Pam got there that he rounded on her like a striking snake, slamming her against the door she'd just come in and snarling in her face, "What the _hell_ is going on?"

The case of True Blood she carried with her rattled slightly with the assault, but she just stared back at him, impassively.

"Glad to see your back to yourself, Sherriff," she deadpanned. Then her eyes zeroed in on his arm, which was still sluggishly healing due to his lack of feeding. "What happened?

"Later. Tell me what's going on. Why can't I remember the last three days?"

Wasting no time, she dove right in.

"You were cursed by the witch that was demanding part of Fantasia's profits. Do you remember the meeting?" She asked, for all the world looking like dangling a foot off the ground by the front of her sweater was an everyday occurrence.

"Yes, I remember the messenger coming to the club," he said, then thought harder, lowering her to the ground and stalking away as he pulled forth the events. "Their leader wanted me to bed her. I refused."

Pam snorted. "Yes. You '_refused_', quiet vehemently. And were promptly cursed. Then Chow, in a fit of anger, attacked the messenger which caused you to disappear."

He watched her straighten her sweater then carry the blood to the small counter that served as a kitchen. "No microwave…"

Eric followed her and grabbed a bottle of the blood, shaking it and popping the top before downing it. Synthetic blood wasn't great warm, but it was absolutely _vile_ room temperature. Still, he drank it all down and opened another.

"Disappeared?" He asked, taking another long pull on the bottle.

"Yes, one moment you were there. The next gone. We were in the process of organizing a search when Buffy called saying she'd come across you in an altercation with a squad of vampire police here in New Orleans," she paused while he processed this and then went on. "She called me after she got you away. I told her to keep you for the time being since the witches here would still be looking for you. "

"To keep me?" He snorted slightly, though he was less than amused. "Then what?"

"The witches scoured the areas around Shreveport for you, even going as far as to offer a fifty-thousand dollar reward for information on your whereabouts. While they did that, I gathered the area vampires and spoke with Colonel Flood."

"You teamed with the local Weres?" He asked, surprised.

"It turned out the witches were also Weres. Weres that were drinking vampire blood…"

Eric let out an ancient curse. "I take it that since you're using the past tense that they've been handled?"

Pam bared her teeth in a feral grin. "Oh, yes. Our people and Flood's dogs fought a gloriously bloody battle against them. Chow died," she said with a twist of her lips and a shrug. "But we were able to capture Hallow. I had quite an enjoyable time forcing her to remove the spell she'd placed on you."

Eric nodded and grabbed a third bottle, feeling more together now that he was getting filled with both blood and missing information.

"And what about here in New Orleans? What did you hear from Buffy in that time?"

"Nothing," she shrugged. "I told her to watch out for witches and not to let Sophie-Anne know you were in the city, that was the last I heard until your call."

He fell silent, hoping that the new information Pam had provided would trigger something, some memory would show itself and allow the others to fall in place. But nothing came. The time between his meeting in Fangtasia and waking up a few hours ago continued to a yawning black hole.

"I woke up in a cemetery with Buffy's bleeding body on top of me a few hours ago," he said, pausing to finish the blood and then standing to get another bottle. "But how I got there or what happened before then, I have no memory of."

"And you said Buffy was injured?"

"Yes, it appeared as though she'd been beaten and stabbed," he said. The bottle in his hand suddenly shattered, glass and synthetic blood bursting through his fingers. He ignored it and went on. "I took her to a hospital then called you."

"Why didn't you just give her your blood?"

His face remained impassive, but the image of her, clawing and snarling at him, completely oblivious that she was injuring herself further, flashed across his mind as he watched the blood drip off his hand onto the floor.

"I did. She… had a bad reaction to it."

Pam eyed him critically, obviously knowing there was more to it than that, but didn't question him on it.

"Well, she was supposed to be protecting you. I'd imagine you either came in contact with the police or witches looking for you, forcing a confrontation," she pointed out bluntly.

Eric got up and headed for the counter under the pretense of getting more blood, not wanting Pam's sharp eyes to see his face twist with the thought that she was hurt because she was trying to protect him.

"No one else was there. Why would- Wait… there _was_ the scent of magic in the air," he said slowly as he turned back to her, just now remembering that detail.

Pam nodded. "It was probably witches trying to collect on your bounty. They might have been able to sense that the spell on you was lifting and left, knowing that meant Hallow was likely dead and they wouldn't be paid."

Eric turned around again, sitting the bottle of blood on the counter a little harder than necessary. Buffy's phone caught his eye and he tossed it over his shoulder to Pam without turning around.

"She's at the Tulane Medical Center," he said quietly. "Check on her status."

Pam nodded and went outside with the phone, knowing he needed a moment to regain his fluctuating control. He didn't need Pam to tell him she was still alive, he could _feel_ her. The blood of his that made it inside her had linked them and that feeling of muted pain signaling she was out there and alive was the only thing that had kept him from returning to the hospital despite the risks.

He turned, leaning back against the counter as he stared at the puddle of blood mingled with broken glass on the floor, body still and thoughts slowing and calming. He had his answers (or at least some of them), Buffy was seriously injured, but alive, and now that he'd eaten and had Pam with him, he could focus on finding the answers he was still missing. Most notably who had attacked them and almost killed Buffy. Closely followed by getting answers from her about what had happened during his stretch of amnesia and why she'd reacted in such a way to his blood.

Feeling calmer and cooler now, he started to plan out how exactly he was going to get away with moving around the city without Sophie-Anne's attention being grabbed - and if it was, what excuse he could give her. He was drawn out of his musing by the sudden sound of laughter though.

Raising an eyebrow, he watched as Pam came back in, red tears coursing down her cheeks as she continued to howl in mirth.

"I know how funny you usually find mortal wounds, but is this really necessary?" He asked dryly.

Instead of answering, she just turned the phone toward him, showing picture of none other than himself in those ridiculous clothes he'd been wearing earlier, sans blood. His mouth dropped open as he took in his own countenance, the features familiar but the expression was one he'd never seen on his face before. Wide-eyed confusion painted his features with an odd innocence, his head tilted slightly to the side as he stared back at the lens.

"That's- I can't even," Pam gasped between more laughter, before finally getting out. "I already owed her for taking care of you, but this… I don't think I can ever repay her for taking this picture."

"If you're finished," he said with a scowl while he deleted the picture, knowing full well that Pam would've already sent it to three e-mail accounts to safe-guard its existence. "Care to tell me what you found out?"

"Oh, she's fine," she said with a wave, then wiping away her bloody tears. "Been transferred to a private room. I guess Sophie-Anne must have been informed because she has a private medical staff and all her information has been locked down."

"The Queen might think this was a move against her…" Eric said thoughtfully, then a particularly unpleasant thought occurred to him. "But at least this offers her some protection. Do you think there's any chance of the witches going after Buffy again?"

"Not to worry. The guard, Rasul, is with her. I'm sure he's keeping a _very_ close eye on her."

Eric's newly restored control slipped away and the remaining bottles of blood crashed against the wall.

* * *

><p>The slow beeping was getting on her damn nerves. It ricocheted around in her head , unending… again, and again, and again. Couldn't whoever was doing that see that she was trying to sleep?<p>

Buffy's hand twitched as the sound went on and on, chiseling away at her patience as she tried to slip back into unconsciousness.

_That's it_, she thought, prying open eyes that seemed entirely too heavy. _I'm getting up and shoving that beeping thing up whoever's ass-_

_Oh… _

She blinked rapidly at the bright room, eyes tearing up at the sudden assault of florescent lighting on her retinas. As soon as she saw the sterile whiteness of everything, she noticed the smell of antiseptic and sickness. Dammit, she was in a hospital…

Rolling her head heavily to the right, she saw that the beeping was the sound of her heart monitor. Good thing she hadn't gotten her wish about the sound going away…

Looking to the left she saw Rasul, staring at her unblinkingly from a chair next to her bed. His serious face only about a foot from her own.

"Rasul," she croaked. "'s creepy…"

He cracked a smile that didn't reach his dark eyes and poured her a glass of water, holding the straw while she sipped at it. She closed her eyes in ecstasy. Never before had she realized how glorious it was. All wet… and cold… and wet…

Wait, something was wrong here…

"'m I drunk?" She slurred, letting the straw pop out of her mouth.

"No, you're just on some very good drugs."

"Drugs 'r bad…"

"Not when you have a hole all the way through you. Then they're very good."

"Wait… I've gotta what now?" She said, shaking her head and making an attempt to clear the fog from her brain.

"Someone left you at the emergency room entrance. You were stabbed all the way through and bleeding to death," he said flatly.

"Jeez, your bedside manner sucks," she said slowly, trying to avoid any more drunk-speech. "Aren't you supposed to break stuff like that to me gently?"

"You'll be fine," he said with a slight eye roll. "You're healing ability is pretty amazing actually. That wound would've killed anyone else, the doctors were about to pounce on you for studies and medical journal articles before the Queen sent in a private team for you."

"How'd she hear about it?"

"The Queen has eyes everywhere. A girl fitting your description with your healing ablitlies was something she had checked out immediately," he answered, shrugging. Then his gaze turned serious once again. "What do you remember?"

Buffy reached up to rub a temple, feeling the tug of an IV as she did so. What _did_ she remember? Hell A… Angel and Spike… Wolfram and Hart… Oh, _that_ was why she had an extra hole in her! Hart was feeling all stabby. After that, things got a little patchy. She must've opened the portal… Oh yeah, to send Eric back!

Shit! Eric! She tried to fight away the burst of sudden panic, but the heart monitor tattled on her, spiking loudly.

"Buffy?" Rasul was on his feet in a second.

"Sorry, it's- I'm fine," she said, swallowing and thinking fast. "I don't really remember much, but I suddenly remembered there was a sword…"

She put her hand over the bulk of bandages on her stomach for effect.

She looked up at him from under her lashes, gauging his reaction. She wasn't sure what he knew, so she didn't want to tell any blatant lies she could get caught in. How had she gotten to the hospital? Where was Eric? Did the Queen have him now? Wait…

"You said someone left me in the emergency bay?"

"Yes, a blond man. I viewed the surveillance video, but the quality was very poor and the area he left you in not very well lit, so I couldn't tell much more than that. There was only one witness and he said the man was covered in blood, presumably yours, fairly tall, and wearing a tie-dyed t-shirt. Any of that sound familiar?"

She watched Rasul closely, but he didn't seem to be fishing for her to incriminate herself. Still, she'd better step very carefully…

"Umm… I think there were two… no, maybe three men," she said, looking away and feigning concentration. "They were strong… _Really_ strong. But I don't think any of them were blond…"

It was all true, so she couldn't be called a liar if the truth came out. She'd just left some stuff out…

"So all you remember from the last three days was that you were attacked by three men and stabbed with a sword?"

"Three days?"

Her mouth fell open, no need to fake shock this time...

Apparently that show of genuine surprise was enough to convince Rasul, because he went on a little softer.

"Yes, Buffy. You left the apartment on New Years Eve and haven't been seen since. It's the morning of the fourth now."

Well, time in Hell _did_ move differently. And with all the fighting there and the constant red sky, she couldn't be sure how long they were there either. But three days?

"Could it have been Madden?

The question surprised her out of her thoughts and her gaze whipped around to Rasul. His eyes were glowing slightly and she could see the tension in his body.

Victor Madden… the name sent a hot wave of fury through her, causing the heart monitor to spike again. Oh, how she'd like to blame this on him… But she wasn't sure exactly what that would mean in the vampire political scene. She was a (not so well kept) secret employee. Could, or would, Sophie-Anne make a move against a vamp in another territory because he'd attacked her?

As nice as the thought of Sophie-Anne's forces going in to Arizona and tearing apart Madden was, Buffy didn't want a war started because her. Let alone the fact that it would be a lie.

Plus, when the opportunity came, no one was killing Victor but her. She owed it to Dennis.

"I doubt it," she said grudgingly. "Victor wouldn't take me out with a sword to the gut. He'd want to keep me around for a while as entertainment. It would probably end up a lot messier than a single stab wound..."

A growl burst out of Rasul before he choked it back. Then he stood abruptly.

"I have to go now. The sun will be up soon," he said with a glance at the window. "But someone will be here to-"

"Take me with you," Buffy interrupted, panicking at the thought of being stuck in this room all day. She needed to find out what happened to Eric and that wouldn't be easy if Sophie-Anne had people creeping around the hospital.

"You were just _skewered_, Buffy. You were bleeding internally and had to have surgery. You can't just leave a few hours after something like that."

"Surgery smurgery," she said with a wobbly hand wave. "You already said the doctors were talking about how fast I was healing. That's not going to change because I go somewhere else."

"You need to be monitored and medicated."

"No, I don't," she said seriously, looking him right in the eye. "And I hate hospitals, Rasul. _Hate_ them. My apartment is way more comfortable, I'll feel better there, so I'll heal faster. The medication isn't going to change how quickly I heal, it'll just make me feel loopy. And if you're worried about me being alone, I'll call a friend and have her come hang out with me until you get up. She owes me anyway…"

Buffy scowled at the thought of her ruined jacket.

"You just have an answer for everything, don't you?"

"Don't act surprised. You already knew that," she said, giving him a sunny smile.

He shook his head, but grinned. "Fine, I'll be back in a minute and we'll go."

As soon as the door clicked shut, the smile fell from her face. She tried to keep from freaking, not wanting the heart monitor to go nuts again, but it was hard. Where the hell was Eric? Not that she wasn't grateful that he wasn't there - Sophie-Anne getting her hands on him would just top off her getting stabbed perfectly.

A minute later a nurse came in, bustling around her, pulling out lines and poking and prodding while asking questions and giving home care advice. Buffy tried to answer as best she could, but her mind was occupied with more important things than how to properly change a bandage. As if that wasn't a skill she excelled at. If there was a bandage-changing Olympic category, she'd be getting the gold.

As the nurse went on and on with her little spiel, Buffy resumed her thoughts on Eric. She had to assume that the 'tall blond man' that had dropped her off at the hospital had been him (really the tie-dyed shirt was a dead giveaway), but why would he leave? He couldn't know that staying would be a bad idea… Well, she supposed he could've put that together from what he'd heard of her and Pam's phone conversation, but she doubted it. Plus, he'd been a little… _clingy_ without his memory. So why would he leave her side?

Unless he got his memory _back_?

She had to pause in her thoughts again while the nurse went over her prescriptions, she tuned in for about six seconds, nodded politely, then went back to ignoring her for her musing. The nurse gave a tutting sound as she left, either because she'd noticed Buffy's inattention or didn't agree with her going home already, but Buffy's mind was already back to thinking about Eric by the time the door closed behind her.

Was that it? Rasul said she'd been missing for three days, had Pam managed to get the curse lifted while they were away?

"_Buffy? Why are you bleeding on me? And what am I _wearing_?"_

Her eyes widened as she abruptly remembered his voice, far away but with the unmistakable dry cadence of Eric's normal speech pre-amnesia. Did that mean that he remembered who he was… but _didn't_ remember what had happened in L.A.? Was she really that lucky?

_You just got beaten up and stabbed by the heads of an interdimensional evil law firm after ending up in L.A. while it was being sucked into hell, all while trying to protect a giant amnesiac vampire. No, luck is not something you have,_ she told herself wryly.

Still, she couldn't help but to smile. If that really _was_ what happened, it was perfect. She wouldn't have to worry about him being lost and looking for a place to hide from the sun, _and_ she didn't have to worry about all the explaining that would go along with Eric remembering the portal trip to L.A. and the meeting with her exes. She was still smiling when Rasul came back.

"What are you so happy about?" He asked, eyes narrowing in suspicion.

"I'm getting out of here. Do I need any other reason?"

Then she spotted what he was pushing, which immediately erased her happy vibe.

"I'm _not _riding in that," she said, eying the wheelchair as if it had personally insulted her with its very presence.

"I was hoping you'd say that. Then I get carry you out," Rasul said, picking up the smile she'd dropped.

Carried out like a child? Or wheeled out like a weakling?

"Neither. I'm walking out," Buffy said as she sat up with a wince. Damn, laying still on the bed she felt fine, moving around was another thing…

"No," Rasul said, never losing his smile but his eyes going hard. "You're not. So what's it going to be? Arms or chair?"

Buffy huffed, wondering if she was feeling up to kicking Rasul's ass, but in the end decided no, she wasn't.

"Will you use your super vampire speed?"

"Yes, I'll use my 'super vampire speed'," he answered in an indulgent tone. "But only if I carry you. I trust my reflexes, but I don't trust this thing to keep up."

Buffy eyed the wheelchair and had to admit she agreed. One of the handles looked suspiciously taped on and a wheel was sporting more rust than actual metal.

"Okay then," she said, sliding her feet down to the ground gingerly.

But just as she started to reach for him, she felt a strong draft on her backside.

"Wait!" She gasped, swinging a hand back to pull the two sides of the gown together. "I need clothes!"

"I was hoping you wouldn't notice that," Rasul said with a wicked smirk, dodging the pillow Buffy threw at him. Laughing, he tossed her a two clear plastic bags with dark green scrubs in them and walked out.

Changing was more of an ordeal than she thought it would be. Her muscles ached and she could feel the stitches pulling with every movement. But given that she'd only had her ass handed to her and gotten shish-kabobed about six hours ago, she supposed she couldn't really complain.

She sat on the bed for a second, catching her breath before Rasul came back in. It was silly really, he could probably hear the pounding of her heart out in the hall, but she'd still rather not look like she was about to keel over any second when he came back.

Straightening slowly, she kept a protective hand on her stomach and one on the bed. When she was sure she wasn't going to fall over, she folded her arms and called Rasul back in.

"Ready!"

The door opened a second later and Rasul walked back in, eyeing her critically, but keeping his mouth shut. Smart vampire. He bent, letting her get her arms around his neck, before scooping her up in one smooth motion. She was impressed with his quick but careful movements, she barely felt a thing. The stitches in her back were pulling a little more because of her slightly hunched up position, but he seemed to realize that within seconds and had her comfortably settled in his arms as if she weighed nothing and was made from glass.

The hall outside blurred by much to her enjoyment, and soon they were flying down flight after flight of steps. She closed her eyes and rested her head on his chest, the fast paced circling making her a little nauseous. He was wearing a soft black t-shirt with his standard black cargo pants, and the material was soft beneath her cheek. The lack of breath and a beating heart was actually nice - a relief after the annoying beeping of the monitor in her room. She noticed vaguely that he smelled nice. Spicy, almost.

"That was way better than getting wheeled out," she said sleepily as the cool night air hit her, thinking that they'd just now be getting in the elevator if she'd taken option B.

"Yes," he answered softly, his words stirring her hair slightly. "Much better."

It wasn't until they were almost to the car that Buffy remembered that he might have more-than-a-friend-type feelings for her and that maybe being this close to him wasn't such a good idea. But it was just a whisper of a thought and it was gone as quickly as it came. Sleep grasped at her with greedy hands and as she gave in to it, she was almost sure she felt a pair of cool lips brush her forehead.


	26. Chapter 26

**Chapter Twenty-Six**

A cooking show droned in the background as Buffy laid on the couch, glaring at the cordless phone. It wasn't being very helpful and staring it into submission wasn't helping any, so she tossed it over to the armchair, watching listlessly while it bounced off a pillow. Things… weren't going well.

Rasul had deposited her in her apartment sometime just before dawn - she wasn't sure about exactly when or how, because apparently she'd been asleep. Early afternoon sun had been shining in on her when she woke, and after a moment of "urg, where the hell am I and why do I feel like something a demon vomited up" she remembered she was supposed to be finding out what had happened to Eric. It was with her decision to call Fangtasia first that she'd realized with a burst of panic that she didn't have her cell phone.

Or her ring.

She'd been in such a rush to get out of the hospital, she hadn't even thought of getting her belongings.

She'd flown out of bed like she was on fire, knocking over the table the cordless phone sat on and cursing as her stomach and back flared with pain. Grabbing the phone and shuffling more carefully into the living room, she'd looked around to make sure Rasul hadn't brought anything back with them last night and she'd just been to out of it to notice. But no, there was nothing.

The hospital hadn't been very hospitable when she called either, stretching her patience as they transferred her around and around. From what they'd said, she'd guessed that the way Sophie-Anne had pretty much put everything in regards to Buffy on lockdown and sent in her own team of physicians was making it difficult for the regular staff to find out anything about Buffy's things. After twenty minutes she'd been ready to go down there and just search the place herself, but they'd finally come back on the line and said they'd located her ring and her clothing but not her phone. She didn't care about the clothes (she could only guess how nasty they were) and she was disappointed about the phone (it had Eric's picture in it after all, not something that could be replicated) but as long as her ring wasn't lost, that was all that really mattered.

Her next call had been to Amelia.

It was with her witchy friends apologies about the "miscalculation" that turned her blue that Buffy had realized for the first time that she _wasn't_ blue anymore, at least her hands weren't. As Amelia had babbled on and on about what she was sure went wrong, Buffy had wandered into the bathroom to see that all the blue was gone from her except for a few strands of hair. She guessed whatever private medical staff Sophie-Anne had called in had done the trick - making sure to earn the beaucoup bucks their undead benefactor was surely paying them.

After getting Amelia to shut up, she'd told her she'd forgive her if she'd go to the hospital and bring her things to her. That, of course, had brought about a slew of questions that Buffy had avoided by pretending someone was at the door and that she had to go.

And then, finally, she'd called Fangtasia (with the help of 411 since her phone was MIA), hoping that she'd be able to speak to someone that knew what was going on. What she got instead was a simpering girl that said that "Master Eric" and "Mistress Pam" weren't available because of the "cruel rays of the sun". Despite her flowery language, Buffy was easily able to translate her tone to something more along the lines of "It's daytime, you stupid bitch". Sensing defeat, she'd hung up to wait for nightfall, when hopefully she'd be able to get in touch with someone other than a vamp groupie who had no intention of telling a stranger anything about the subjects of her mindless worship.

So, now here she was, laying on her couch like a useless lump of holey slayer. As she laid there looking up at the ceiling, it occurred to her that she actually wasn't too worried about Eric anymore. Yes, she wanted to know where he was, but for some reason she had this weird feeling that he was just fine. And moist… Maybe there were still some drugs lingering in her system…

As soon as one worry drifted to the back of her mind, another was waiting to take its place though. What had happened in L.A. after she and Eric had left? Did Gunn make it? Was Wesley's soul released? Did Angel know that the Wolf, Ram, and Hart were pretty much obsessed with making him theirs.

And ewww… disturbing and dirty thoughts…

Luckily, a knock at the door distracted her before her traitorous mind could provide a mental picture to go with that thought. She scowled at her stomach as she gingerly stood up, hating the puckering and pulling sensation that the stitches caused. While the doctors might've been awed by her healing, Buffy was unimpressed. Not that she expected to be fully healed in twelve hours, but not feeling like something a truck ran over would be nice. She had a feeling that quick dimensional hop back and forth was screwing with her healing. But, she supposed if that was the only repercussion, then she should count herself lucky.

She snorted slightly as she shuffled to the door. Yeah, she felt _really_ lucky…

On the other side of the door, Amelia stood holding a tan grocery bag while she looked down the hallway uneasily.

"Hey-," she started, stopping immediately when she caught sight of Buffy. "Wow. You really look like crap."

"Thanks, Amelia. Good to see you, too."

Amelia gave a shrug and looked down the hall again.

"So, what's _up_ with this building? It was like I was trying to break into a secret government bunker instead of get to your apartment."

"A bunch of vampires live here, so they keep security tight," Buffy answered with a nonchalant wave as she turned away.

Actually, she'd been a little worried about Amelia getting in safely. She'd called down to the security room to let them know that she was coming and to let her through, but she was still glad to see her friend had made it up without any bullet holes or laser burns.

"Why are you hunched over like that? Gotta poop?" Amelia asked, following her in and shutting the door.

Maybe a few laser burns wouldn't be so bad…

"No, I got stabbed," Buffy snapped back as she made her way into the living room and making an effort to straighten up a little.

Amelia's eyebrows rose. "That sucks. But hey, at least you're not blue anymore."

This was true. A small thing to be grateful for but she was anyway. Despite that, she just gave Amelia a flat stare as an answer - she was still a little sore about her ruined jacket. Though really, it probably would've been ruined and/or lost in Hell A anyway…

"Uh, here's your stuff," Amelia blurted with a bright smile, obviously sensing it was time to remind Buffy she'd just done a favor for her.

Buffy took the bag from her, untied the handles (apparently that was the hospital's idea of privacy) and peeked inside, curling her lip when she saw that they'd sent the disgusting blood soaked clothes. She shook it a little so she could see the rest of the contents without touching anything and let out a small sigh of relief when she saw the ring down in the bottom corner. She was about to close it back up when a lump in one of the pockets of her stained and torn up pants caught her eye. Reaching in and trying to slide her thumb and forefinger in the opening without touching the fabric, she grabbed something smooth and familiar.

"Mr. Pointy!" She cried, yanking the stake the rest of the way out and cradling it to her chest. "I'm so sorry, I completely forgot about you…"

"Would you and your stake like some time alone," Amelia asked, looking torn between being confused, disturbed and amused.

Blushing a little, Buffy dropped Mr. Pointy back inside with a mental promise of a polish later, then tied the plastic handles back together and flung the bag through her open bedroom door where it slid to a stop by the foot of her bed.

"So, I get the need for a stake if you're living in a vampire infested building. But _why_ exactly are you living here?" Amelia asked as she plopped down on the couch. "And how'd you get stabbed?"

After taking a more careful approach to sitting, Buffy explained things. Kinda. She told Amelia that she worked for Sophie-Anne Leclerq, who owned the building she lived in. When Amelia asked what her job actually was, she left the description vague, just saying she ran errands and stuff. As for the stabbing, she gave her friend the same tale she'd given Rasul - that she got in a fight with three guys and couldn't remember what exactly happened. While Amelia had accepted the shady job description, she was obviously much more skeptical of this part of Buffy's story.

"You're telling me you have some kind of stabbing induced amnesia?" She asked, an eyebrow raised.

"What? It was a traumatic experience. The mind blocks stuff like that you know."

"You don't seem very traumatized to me…"

"I keep my pain on the inside."

Amelia snorted and Buffy couldn't even keep a straight face.

"Fine then, if you can tell me where this happened, I can do a spell that will reconstruct the events," Amelia said smugly

"No! Uh, I mean…" Buffy scrambled trying to cover her slip. "I don't know where it was… I just ended up at the hospital. Somebody dropped me off in the emergency bay."

"Then we'll do it in the emergency bay. Find your mystery rescuer and have him tell us where he found you."

The look on Amelia's face was shrewd as she watched Buffy, waiting to see what she'd come up with next. Buffy deflated. Here she thought she'd gotten better at lying…

"Okay, so I do remember," she said, leaning forward a little and lowering her voice even though they were the only two in the apartment. "But you can't tell anyone."

Amelia nodded vigorously and leaned forward, too.

"Remember me telling you about Eric?"

"The big blond guy you totally wanna bone?"

"I'm don't- I didn't say that!" Buffy stuttered, turning pink. "And actually… he's a big blond _vampire_."

Amelia's eyes rounded and a look of distaste flickered across her face. But then she just shrugged.

"To each their own, I guess. Wait, what about Rasul? He was willing to fight a vampire over you?"

"He's a vampire, too."

"You have a type, huh?"

"You have _no_ idea," Buffy muttered. "_Anyway_, some witches showed up at the bar he owns and tired to blackmail him into giving them part of his profits. Plus the lead witch wanted to sleep with him. When he said no, they put a curse on him that made him forget who he was."

"Witches did?" Amelia said, aghast, then stood and started pacing. "They can't do that! We have rules about stuff like that! Why are there _gnomes_ on this rug? Never mind. Then what?"

Buffy smothered a smile at her friend's rambling outrage and went on.

"Pam, she works for Eric, decided it'd be better for him to stay with me while they tried to work out what to do about the witches there, since Eric without his memories is kinda clueless and more than a little adorable."

Amelia stopped her pacing and sat back down across from Buffy.

"So you were, like, protecting him? Did you get istabbed/i trying to keep him safe? That's so romantic…"

"Uh… not really. Stab wounds aren't all that sexy…"

"Oh man, I bet Rasul was _pissed_ when you brought Eric home," Amelia said with knowing smile. "And that you got stabbed for him? Holy hell, I bet his head was about to pop off."

"That's exactly why I _didn't_ bring him back here and I didn't tell Rasul anything about it. He got the story about me not remembering anything. Can you imagine how well the truth would've gone over?"

"It's like you're Juliet, Eric's Romeo and Rasul is Tybalt."

"Uh… Tybalt was Juliet's cousin… Me and Rasul aren't related. And Romeo killed him then got banished. Do you mean Paris?"

"No, Paris was a tool. He'd never get into a vampire brawl over Juliet."

"So, incest is better?"

"Not the point!"

"I'm not sure you have one," Buffy said with a raised eyebrow, then she made a face as something else occurred to her. "And they were all dead by the end of the story. This is a terrible analogy."

"Rasul and Eric are already dead," Amelia said with a shrug.

Giving up on understanding Amelia-logic, she sat back and grabbed the remote while her witchy friend started peppering her with questions: Who was hotter, Rasul or Eric? Did she want to be a vampire too? What was it like living in the building? Could she make as much noise as she wanted during the day or did she have to be quiet because everyone was sleeping? Where were the witches from that attacked Eric? What curse had they used on him?

This went on for a little while but, much to Buffy's relief, the conversation cut off when General Hospital came on. She'd ended up telling Amelia more than she'd really wanted to. But it also felt kind of nice having someone know a little more about her. Unfortunately, she had a feeling that trying to keep track of who knew what was going to be a problem. And she still had to decide on what to tell Sophie-Anne… Rasul might have bought the lies she was selling, but if Amelia hadn't, then she seriously doubted Sophie-Anne would.

She was still pondering this problem and listening halfheartedly to Amelia rage about what an ass someone named Sonny was when she drifted off to sleep. She woke up later to the sight of reddish orange light pouring in the windows, making her feel uneasy for a moment as she remembered Hell, before she realized it was just the sun setting. The TV was still on, set on a sitcom with the volume turned almost all the way down. Rubbing her eyes, she levered herself off the couch, feeling like an old lady the way her stiff muscles had her hunched over and how she was shuffling around. She really needed to start stretching…

Sounds of someone moving around in the kitchen drew her attention, but she made a pit stop in the bathroom first - brushing the old sock taste out of her mouth and trying for about five seconds to tame her mane-like bed-head before giving up. The smell of food drifted toward her, making her stomach growl as she followed it. In the kitchen she found Amelia pouring soup into two bowls.

"Hey, good timing! Foods ready," she said, grabbing some crackers. "You can have soup right? It's not gonna, like, leak out of that hole in you or anything, is it?"

Buffy snorted and followed her into the dining room. "I don't think they would've let me out if I was leaking."

Amelia grinned back at her, sitting their bowls on the table and the crackers between them. Buffy took the seat across from her and was about to spoon up the first bite when she paused.

"Thanks, Amelia."

"It's just soup, Buffy," Amelia said with a smirk as she took a handful of crackers and crushed them over her bowl.

"Not just for the soup. Just… thanks," Buffy said, looking at her seriously, wanting her to really know how much she appreciated this. "I'm really glad I met you."

Amelia's smirk melted away to surprise for a second, then she gave Buffy a soft, genuine smile.

"Me too. Now let's eat."

The soup was good, the company was better, and the two talked and laughed while they ate. It was nice.

She should've known it wasn't going to last.

A sudden crash from the living room had her flinging the soup on her spoon all over the table. Amelia gave a squawk and fell out of her chair.

"Bloody hell, Red! You did that on purpose, I know you did. Can zap us to a right to where Buffy is in different dimension but you can't make it so I don't land on the sodding coffee table?"

"On purpose? Why would I want to purposely break Buffy's coffee table?"

"Dammit, Spike! Quit blaming Willow for your clumsiness! We're here to see Buffy, not deal with your idiocy. We've wasted enough time as it is..."

"You weren't in such a hurry when you were holed up in your room, crying and writing in your diary. Playing with your poncey hair gel."

"I was ironing my shirt and calling to check on Gunn!"

"Don't use the wounded as a cover for your girly tendencies."

"Oh no…" Buffy muttered, staring down at the remains of her soup and setting her spoon down with forced calmness.

"I just heard her! Hey- Watch it, wanker!"

"You know them?" Amelia whispered from where she was peering up over the edge of the table with wide eyes.

"Unfortunately," Buffy said, standing from her chair and making her way from the dining room to the living room.

She was just thinking earlier about how she needed to talk to Willow about Wolfram and Hart and how Angel needed to be warned they weren't giving up on him. But she'd been thinking more along the lines of a nice lunch with Will and maybe sending a message to Angel through her. Not having them plus Spike crashing into her place and bickering in her living room when she felt like death warmed over.

Standing in the entryway to the dining room, she found Spike and Angel in each other's faces while Willow bit her lip just beyond them. Her coffee table was destroyed…

"Uh, hey there, Buffy," Willow said, standing on her toes to see her better from her spot behind the arguing vampires and giving a little wave. "Sorry about just barging in like this, but I was worried and-"

"It's okay, Will," Buffy said, giving her a little smile. It was actually nice to see Willow again. The other two… Well, they were okay when it was just one of them, but when they were together their squabbling drove her up a wall.

"Pet, you look like hell," Spike said, both eyebrows raised as he stepped away from Angel.

"Buffy…" Angel whispered, moving closer to her. "I was so worried. I got in touch with Willow, explained what happened. She agreed to bring me to see you. _That_ refused to be left behind. You're okay right?"

"Fine, Angel. Nothing a few days of rest won't cure."

"You brought all three of you here? From another dimension?" Amelia asked Willow as she came to stand next to Buffy, the beginnings of hero worship lighting her eyes. Buffy had been hoping Amelia hadn't caught the dimension mention, but no such luck.

"Uh, yeah… It actually wasn't that hard, since vampires don't have to worry about damage to their bodies."

"Wait, our bodies are damaged?" Angel asked turning to face Willow along with Spike.

"Just on the inside," Willow said defensively. "Stuff you guys don't use anyway."

Suddenly the front door was kicked in, revealing Rasul in nothing but a pair of black drawstring pants.

"Who the hell is that?" Spike, Angel and Rasul all snapped at the same time, eyeing each other.

Buffy was going to answer, really she was, but she was suddenly very distracted by the sight of her friend and neighbor's bared chest. When did Rasul start looking like _that_? She swallowed hard, her eyes roaming over the wide shoulders and defined chest. Was it hot in there?

"Um, everything's fine, Rasul," Buffy said, tearing her eyes upward to his face as he moved further into the apartment with cautious steps. "These are just friends of mine."

"You weren't kidding about a type," Amelia said, eyes going between Spike, Angel and Rasul.

"My girl likes a little monster in her man," Spike said with a lewd grin and a waggle of his eyebrows.

"Spike…" Buffy and Angel growled at the same time.

"Hey, love, if the shoe fits…"

"Keep going and I'll stab you with that damn shoe," she growled. "I have some wickedly pointed Via Spiga's that need broken in."

"Oooh, can I see?" A feminine voice asked from the busted front door.

Buffy turned to see a pretty blond in a light blue dress with a white cardigan and a ribbon in her hair looking back at her. Behind her stood Eric, taking in the scene with interest. Buffy assumed the woman was Pam, although she'd never pictured her looking like a young suburban house wife…

"See what, the shoes or me kicking his ass?"

"Well, both would be fun. But I'm more interested in the shoes."

"They're in my closet. Go nuts."

"I'm Pam by the way. I'll be setting up a spa day for you tomorrow, you're looking a little like a zombie I saw in Haiti once," she said making her way into the apartment as if she owned it. She was going toward the bedroom until she caught sight of Amelia, then she veered off abruptly with a "What do we have _here_?" But Amelia was already inching her way toward Willow with a speculative gleam in her eyes.

Looking around at her guests it hit her that she seemed she had "a type" in more ways than one…

Two bi-witches, two brooding brunette vampires and two cocky blond vampires…

She really was a glutton for punishment…

Buffy just watched Pam stalk toward the girls feeling slightly bowled over. She heard her purr "Well hello there" and then turned her attention to Eric. One look told her she'd guessed right - he had his memory back. The sexy smirk on his face as he leaned against the cracked door frame was a dead giveaway that his innocent, childlike persona was gone.

"What are _you _doing here," Rasul growled at him, his fangs sliding out.

"I heard Buffy was hurt," Eric said smoothly, pushing off the frame and sauntering in. "I wanted to check on her."

"I thought I made it clear you weren't to come back to this city without permission…"

"Who said I _don't_ have permission?" Eric asked, calm in the face of Rasul's fury.

On the other side of the room, she could here Angel and Spike.

"-the _hell_ I am."

"Spike, this isn't up for discussion. I-"

"Am not the bleeding boss of me. I can do as I please and don't give a toss what you think about it."

Then, over by windows, were Amelia, Pam and Willow.

"I've just had a very bad experience with some witches, but I think I may be able to make an exception for the two of you…"

"That's, uh, really nice and all. But I have a girlfriend. Not that I don't find you attractive! Because I do. Both of you. But threesomes really aren't my thing…"

Buffy shook her head and rubbed the bridge of her nose. She didn't even know where to begin in this mess. She wanted to talk to all of them, but she doubted they'd stand in an orderly line.

"That is _it_," she heard Angel burst out. Then he was on Spike and the two of them were throwing punches and rolling around on the remains of her coffee table. As she watched them beat each other to a pulp in apathy, Rasul crossed behind them, sniffing the air like a blood hound. He disappeared into her bedroom and Buffy just let him go, not wanting to stop him just to have him resume his fighting with Eric.

"If I'd known the two of you were going to act like twelve year olds, I would've left you at home!" Willow was yelling. "Now stop this right now or I swear, I'll give you boobs on the trip back."

Spike actually paused for a second at that. "How big?"

A punch from Angel made him forget the question a second later.

"Very interesting friends you have here," Eric's deep voice whispered from behind her.

"I think you mean insane…" Buffy said, trying to keep her voice steady. Something was different and she couldn't quite put her finger on what. She felt his presence much more acutely than she had before, but there was something else...

Coming around to stand next to her, Eric lost his playful look. "Tell me, Buffy, what happened-"

"Son of a _bitch_!"

Rasul's furious shout had them both turning toward the bedroom door where Rasul stood, clutching the disgusting remains of her shirt from the hospital.

"You were _there_?" He shouted at Eric, deftly stepping aside as Angel and Spike almost rolled into him. Then an expression of dawning comprehension rolled over his face. "The tall blond that dropped her off… You utter piece of _shit_! Not only did you just dump her like so much garbage in the ambulance bay, but I'm willing to bet _you're_ the reason she got hurt in the first place!"

"Watch what you say, guard," Eric snarled, loosing his composure fast. For a moment there, Buffy could swear she almost _felt_ that burst of anger along with him. "You have no idea what-"

But it didn't matter to Rasul what he had "no idea" about, with lightning quick speed, he was across the room and crashing into Eric. The two of them hit the ground and slid across the tile of the entry way, hitting the wall with a shuddering impact and the sound of cracking drywall.

Buffy looked over at Pam, hoping she'd do something about this, but she just watched the two with indifference for a second before going back to hitting on the Amelia, who was casting the occasional veiled glance at Willow, who was still yelling ineffectual threats at Spike and Angel.

It was while watching her red headed friend that she realized she could kill two or three birds with one stone through her. Marching over, well, more shuffling over, she grabbed Willow's arm and pulled her back toward the dining room and away from the main circus ring.

"Buffy, I am _so_ sorry. They were both so worried, I really thought they'd behave… They said you got hurt and L.A. got sucked into Hell and that there was a dragon and-"

"Breathe, Will. I've got some stuff to tell you about and I'd like to do it while everyone else is distracted."

She briefly went over what happened in L.A. and the Hart's words to her when he stabbed her.

"I need you to see what you can find out about Wolfram and Hart, what they want with Angel and if there's any way to stop them. I also need you to warn Angel. I'm pretty sure he already knows, but an extra warning can't hurt. When I come back, we'll-"

"Whoa, whoa, I've got you covered on digging into Wolfram and Hart and warning Angel, but Buffy, you can't risk any dimensional travel for a while. That wound combined with that quick of a trip, you're seriously lucky to be alive. Let me worry about Wolfram and Hart while you heal, then you can come back in a few months we can decide what to do about them."

"A few _months_? Willow, they could be making a move right now."

"A few months is nothing to things like them. A blink of an eye. If anything happens before then, I'll come let you know."

Buffy gave her a skeptical look.

"I _promise_. Now let me go collect those two and get out of here. Again, sorry about this. I just got so freaked when they started babbling about you bleeding all over."

"Again, it's fine, Willow," Buffy said, pulling her friend into a hug. "And if I had to put up with those two going all Ultimate Fighter on each other every time I saw you, it'd still be worth it."

Willow hugged her back, looking pleased by the compliment.

"What about you?" Buffy said suddenly, pulling back. "Are you going to be alright? Jumping back and forth with Tweedledee and Tweedledum so quick?"

"Oh yeah, I'll be fine," Willow said looking a little embarrassed as they made their way back toward the sounds of chaos. "My magic seems to protect me when I dimension hop."

Buffy's relief was soon replaced by exasperation as she saw the two pairs of vampires were still rolling around making a mess of things. At least it didn't seem like any of them were actively trying to ikill/i each other. Just bruise, bloody and maybe maim…

"You two knock it off, we're leaving!" Willow yelled to no effect at Spike and Angel.

Buffy was about to go get Mr. Pointy when Amelia stepped up next to Willow and did a little complicated hand wave while she whispered a few words. Suddenly both the quarreling vampires froze with wide eyed looks on their faces.

"What did you do?" Willow asked curiously.

"I turned all their pubes into steel wool."

Both Angel and Spike looked down at their crotches in shock while Pam let out a laugh.

"Why do you even know how to do something like that?" Buffy asked, too bewildered by the randomness to even be impressed.

"Hey, I'm a pretty, young, single woman in New Orleans. It was either that or a taser."

Now that those two were under control, Buffy turned her attention to the other two, who were halfway in the hall now and seemed to be trying to rip off each others arms. She picked up the nearest thing to her, which happened to be a kind of art deco gnome she'd found in this bizarre little art shop nearby, and flung it at the brawling vampires. It hit Eric in the back of the head with a surprisingly loud thud and landed on Rasul without even breaking - she'd have to stop by and commend the artist on her craftsmanship…

Both vampires stopped their fighting to stare at the statue, then Eric turned and grinned at her.

"I'm suddenly reminded of the first time we met…"

He sprung to his feet and walked toward her like he didn't have a care in the world. Only the bloody lip and rumpled clothing gave away that he'd been rolling around on the floor with snapping teeth moments ago. Rasul stood behind him, still looking furious. Worried he was about to jump on Eric's retreating back, Buffy addressed him first.

"Rasul, I'm fine. You can go," she said, holding a hand up to stave off the complaint she could see forming. "You'll be late to work and this isn't worth pissing Sophie-Anne off over, is it? I can handle this myself. I'll see you later, kay?"

Rasul stood for a moment, a sour look on his face, but finally spun toward the door and left. She really hoped Eric hadn't been lying about having permission to be there, because she was sure she saw tattle-tale intensions in Rasul's eyes…

"You two," she said, looking at Angel and Spike. "Thanks for thinking of me. Now get the hell out."

"Buffy, I'm sorry about all this, but I was thinking you should come back-" Angel started at the same time Spike began saying, "Listen pet, I was thinking I should stay-"

"Oh no, both of you stop right there."

Surprisingly, it wasn't Buffy that got the words out first, it was Willow.

"She's staying right here and concentrating on nothing but healing," Willow said, hands on her hips as she pointed accusing fingers at the duo. "You come all the way here to check on her and all the two of you do is fight the moment you find out she's okay. She's not going back, Angel, she's staying right here. And you're not staying here Spike. End of discussion. I hear one more word about it and I'm leaving the steel-wool pubes."

They both gaped like fish for a moment before hanging their heads in unison. Buffy fought off a laugh at the sight, then took pity on them.

"Thanks for worrying about me guys. I promise I'll come see you when I come back," she said, smiling when they looked up like hopeful puppies. Then she remembered, "You said something about Gunn being in the hospital? He's going to be all right, isn't he?"

Angel nodded, "He'll be fine. He's already complaining about being stuck there. Wants to get out and help clean up the city with everyone else."

"How is it there?"

"A mess. But people are coming together to make it better, helping each other out. The city and the people in it are survivors - they'll get through this."

"Any word on Wesley?"

"I'll be looking into that," Willow said, her face grave but determined.

"You guys be careful, okay? And keep me posted."

Willow stepped up between them and put a hand on each shoulder.

"Oh, right then," Spike said, turning toward Eric. "Before we go, I wanted to say sorry for calling you a giant puss leaking twat."

"You called me that?" Eric asked with raised eyebrows.

"Well, not to your face," Spike said with a shrug. "But I take it back. You really came through, got her all patched up right and proper. Thanks for that, mate."

"Gunn told us what you offered to do, too," Angel added. "Even though he didn't take you up on it, thanks for offering."

"What are you-"

"Okay then," Buffy interrupted loudly. She wasn't sure what they were talking about either, but it obviously had something to do with their time in L.A. And if Eric really didn't remember what had happened while he had amnesia, she'd rather keep it that way. "Bon voyage!"

Taking the hint, Willow zapped them out of there with a nod. Leaving nothing but a ringing in Buffy's ears and the skin tingling feeling of power in their wake.

"Wow, that was… _so awesome_," Amelia said, staring at the spot Willow had disappeared from.

"We're going too," Pam said, heading to the door while towing a still stunned Amelia behind her. "We'll get together soon, Buffy. I still want to see those shoes."

When the whoosh of the elevator doors closing reached her, Buffy sighed in relief at the wonderful sound of silence. She felt like she needed recovery time from her recovery time. But the night wasn't over yet. She could feel Eric's gaze boring into her back. Now that it was just the two of them, she braced herself for the torrent of questions she was about to have to fend off.


	27. Chapter 27

**Chapter Twenty-Seven**

The familiar scent of magic filled the room, not exactly an unknown smell to Eric. But this particular brand had a certain…_tang_ to it. Something he immediately recognized as very similar to what he'd smelled in the cemetery the night before. Puzzle pieces were started to slide closer to where they belonged, but he was still missing too many to see the big picture…

He turned his attention to Buffy, watching the way her posture went from slumped relief at the newly restored peace and quiet to a tightly wound tension as a kind of stubborn defiance radiated off of her, brushing across his senses. She knew what was coming and she wasn't happy about it. He'd been hoping she wouldn't know that he didn't have any memories of the last few days, but it seemed he might've given himself away in his confusion moments ago.

From the familiarity of the magic in the air, it was possible the witch might've been with them in that time. And it was apparent that, where ever they'd been and whatever they'd done, the two strange men that were here moments ago had been there as well. And what were they exactly? Their lack of heartbeats made him think 'vampire', but the scent and general feel of energy was all wrong. More questions to add to the pile…

Buffy seemed to gather herself and then turned to him, a strained smile painted on her face. Her hair was a wild, knotted mess and her usual sun-kissed completion was washed out, dark circles lingered under dull green eyes. Whatever had gone on that he couldn't remember had obviously taken its toll on her.

"So, looks like you got your memory back," she said as she made her way over to the armchair, gracefully avoiding broken bits of glass from the destroyed coffee table with her bare feet.

The way she eased herself gently into the chair irritated him for some reason, but he didn't let it show. Keeping his expression bland, he followed her lead and took a seat on the couch across from her.

"Yes. When we were in the cemetery," he said, his voice smooth, not belying the care with which he was choosing his words. "I'm sorry for leaving you like I did, but I didn't want to attract the attention of the queen's people."

Silence settled over them for a moment and they both just stared at one another - taking measure. He fought the sudden urge to grin as wariness fluttered across the bond. She obviously wasn't going to make this easy on him, and while it was frustrating as hell, he also loved a challenge.

"I figured that was what happened," Buffy said with a shrug, settling herself more comfortably in the chair, making a bid at nonchalance.

He wasn't sure what exactly had happened, but he could tell from her reaction that Buffy wouldn't be offering up any details. The way she hurriedly sent off the two with that witch was proof enough of that. Obviously they had been with Buffy and him in that missing time and she didn't want them talking about it. Maybe he could bluff her into it. Or at least catch her off guard…

"It's good to hear Gunn's going to be fine," he started off.

Her eyes widened only for a split second before she controlled her expression and she gave a shrug and a nod. What she didn't know was that he could feel her agitation - a thrumming, like the heart of a trapped animal, against his subconscious.

"And how are your injuries?"

Another shrug. "Fine."

Well, she was certainly being very careful not to give anything away…

"I was intending on visiting you in the hospital tonight, after I got permission from Sophie-Anne to be in the city. But when I called, they told me you'd been released already. I was surprised given the severity of your injury…"

The new line of questioning had Buffy relaxing slightly, confirming that it was just the topic of his missing time that she was uncomfortable discussing.

"I heal fast," she said. "There wasn't really a reason for me to stay there. I could lay around here just as well as I can lay around there."

He gave a poignant look around the room.

"Things would probably have a little less chaotic there."

She actually gave a small laugh at that. "No, it would've been worse. Rasul would've been there, you would've shown up and so would Spike, Angel and Willow. Instead of destroying my apartment, you all would've destroyed a floor of the hospital."

"Point taken," he ginned. Then looking around at the mess, he sobered. "I'll send someone by tomorrow to clean this up."

"Why don't you clean it up now?"

Eric blinked in confusion. "You want _me_ to fix all of this?"

"You helped make the mess!"

She looked irritated, but he could feel amusement at his reaction dancing along the bond.

He waved his hand at it in a show distain - partially because he enjoyed the lightening of her emotions, but also because he really had no intention of _cleaning_ in any way, shape or form.

"Others are better suited for such work."

She shook her head at him, finally actually relaxed instead of just pretending to be. Too bad he was about to ruin that…

"So, you thought to keep me safe by teleporting me away from New Orleans."

His voice kept its slow, amused tone, but his eyes sharpened on her, taking in every detail of her reaction. The sudden return of the tension in her shoulders, the sharply indrawn breath, the panicked slide of her eyes off toward the side - they all told him he'd been correct about that guess. That was the easy part though. The witch and her scent combined with her showy exit had practically painted him a picture. The hard part was finding out where they'd gone and what had happened there.

"I need to call down to maintenance and have them fix that door," Buffy said in the lamest attempt at deflection he'd ever seen.

"Where were we, Buffy?" He asked, leaning forward, elbows on his knees. This was something he couldn't bluff his way through, couldn't lead her into giving away since he didn't even have a clue. From what the dark haired stranger had said, it was a mess there, so something had happened, but that was all guesswork. Trying to form a suitable bluff out of that wouldn't be possible.

When she didn't answer and still refused to even look at him, Eric felt his patience slipping.

"You would take me somewhere and not even tell me where it was? A place that was obviously not as safe as you thought it to be," he said. He was merely fishing with the last part, but given her grimace, he knew he'd been right. "Don't you think I have a right to know where that place was?"

He saw the conflict on her face, felt it flickering along the bond. But just when the scale was tipping more toward resignation than determination and she opened her mouth, the door across the hall opened. Eric didn't need to turn around to know the guard had exited his apartment and was burning holes in his back with his gaze.

A burning flare of anger overrode the frustration he felt. Why was it that every time he turned around, that imbecile Rasul was getting in his way? She'd been just about to give him his answers, now he could feel her locking down tightly again. And not only that, she was staring at him oddly, head cocked to the side and brows knitted together. Her eyes narrowed on him as Rasul's steps started down the hall and he slammed down a wall on his emotions.

"Looks like I'm not the only one keeping secrets," she said softly.

Damn, he should've been more cautious… Large emotional flares like the one he'd just had were a sure way to draw her attention to the bond. It was easy to enjoy the benefits of knowing what she was feeling , but he'd have to remember she could do the same. And since he'd reacted so hastily, now she knew that he knew she could feel it...

"Rasul, hang on a minute," she called out, eyes still locked on Eric as she stood.

He kept his face blank but felt immediately wary of the stubborn jut of her chin and the determination rolling over her. He didn't watch as she left the room, trying to keep up the act of not caring what she was doing. But he still listened intently to her soft steps out of the apartment and down the hall.

"I just felt bad about earlier. I didn't want you to leave mad," she said, her soft words drifting back to him.

"It's fine," Rasul answered stiffly,

"No, it's not fine. You've been so great and it probably seemed like I was just shoving you off to the side after what a good friend you've been. The only reason I told you to go first was because I knew you'd actually listen and wouldn't give me a fight about it."

"You should've just told me to get rid of the rest of them for you," he answered, but there was fondness in his voice that told Eric that all was forgiven. His jaw tightened.

She laughed slightly. "I was trying to keep you guys from breaking more of my stuff, not encourage it."

He listened as there was a shifting of clothing, and the faint scent of lust and longing drifted to him. He was on his feet, a growl forming, before he even knew what he was doing.

"I think your guest is feeling neglected," the guard said, sounding much more cheerful than moments before.

"Uninvited guests don't get to feel neglected. Hey, are you working the whole night?"

"Until three."

"Come over when you get off, you can make me popcorn and we can watch some crappy old monster movies."

The little bubble of anger Eric had felt before was steadily growing into a full blown possessive rage. He felt his fangs start sliding out as he first pictured the two of them curled up on the couch, then immediately started imagining ways to kill Rasul without Buffy knowing he was behind it.

"I can make you popcorn?" Rasul laughed. "Fine, fine. I'll send someone up to clean up that mess and fix your door, too."

"See, I knew I kept you around for some reason."

"Popcorn and phone calls. Nice to know I'm needed."

There was another rustle of fabric, which Eric was sure meant they were hugging, then booted footsteps drifted down the hall.

Once the elevator doors slid shut, there was the pitter patter of little bare feet and then Buffy appeared in the doorway. Eyes wide as she pointed an accusing finger at him.

"I _knew_ it! I didn't know what it was but I still knew it! Spill, Eric, what the hell is going on?"

Eric fought to regain his composure, to lock away the feelings she'd obviously felt overflowing from him to her.

"What was what?" He asked with a shrug. Even as he said it, he knew it was useless - even if she hadn't felt it, he was still standing with his hands clenched and his fangs out. He willed the tension out of him, his hands loosening and fangs sliding back in.

"Don't play dumb with me, Eric. I _felt_ it. You were jealous!"

"You flatter yourself," he said with a wave of his hand as he reseated himself.

"So you want all the answers given to you, but you don't want to give any yourself…" She remarked, coming around the couch and standing next to the chair with her arms crossed. "You have a '_right_' to know what happened while you didn't have your memory, but you won't tell me why I'm suddenly getting little peeks of your feelings?"

"Are you trying to play 'show me yours and I'll show you mine' with me?" He asked with a smirk.

He could, of course. He could tell her about the bond if she agreed to tell him about his missing time. But he wouldn't. While not knowing was frustrating, he was fairly certain he'd eventually get those memories back. On the other hand, if he told Buffy that he'd given her his blood in an attempt to heal her and it had formed a bond between them, she would do the one thing that was absolutely unacceptable to him - distance herself as thoroughly as she could. And that was the last thing he wanted, especially with that scavenger, Rasul, circling.

"I guess we both have things we don't want to share," she said, finally.

There was a hint of sadness to her words that made him reconsider telling her for a moment, but he quickly shoved it aside.

"I'm sure we'll both eventually get the answers we're looking for. Maybe we'll be better prepared to deal with them then…" Eric said, eyes boring into hers.

She stared back and he had a moment where wondered if she'd actually buy that. But then she nodded and sat back down.

"So, you said you called Sophie-Anne? What'd you tell her? "

"I told her that I heard you'd been hurt, and since we were lovers, I wanted to visit you."

"You told her _what_?" Buffy hissed. "Why would you tell her that? Why couldn't you just tell her we were friends?"

"When your guard across the hall goes in tonight, do you think he's going to spare a second before first, making sure the Queen knows I'm in town, and second, after he finds out I have permission to be here, tells her that I was here well before I called her? That I was in fact here last night and am the one that took you to the hospital? The best explanation for my being here without her knowledge is that I was here for a sexual rendezvous with you."

"Won't she be angry?"

"I think she'll be pleased, actually. She obviously values you, and having you involved with one of her sheriff's ties you closer to her."

"You 'think'?"

"It's hard to know how Sophie-Anne will take the news, but I'm almost positive the excuse of us being lovers will keep us safe."

"Well," Buffy said grudgingly. "Okay then, I guess it'll work…"

"I'm glad you think so, because she asked that we both meet with her tomorrow night."

"Oh crap… Wait! Won't she be able to tell that we _aren't_ really lovers?" Buffy asked, turning slightly pink. "I mean, vampire sense of smell and all that?"

"Oh, don't worry about that," he said with a slow smirk. "I have an idea."

* * *

><p>Buffy rushed across the living room and promptly stubbed her big toe on the new coffee table.<p>

"Son of a-" She growled, pausing to hop on one foot, only to stop when her stitches pulled and her towel almost fell off.

Taking a deep breath and readjusting her grip on the bottle of water she'd just been wounded trying to retrieve, she headed back toward the bathroom, shaking her still wet hair out of her face. The little clock in the hall mocked her with its lateness as she went past it, back toward the bathroom. Eric would be there any minute and they were due to meet with Sophie-Anne in half an hour.

She wished she could blame her late start on Eric, but he'd left fairly early last night - right after they'd gone over what they'd tell Sophie-Anne. The story would be that they'd met on the Dallas job and been seeing each other occasionally since then. Not exactly a lie, so it would be easier to stick to without any slips. Plus Sophie-Anne had already known Eric had snuck off to Dallas, so there wasn't much chance of him getting in extra trouble for that.

Then they'd tell her that since Buffy had been on city arrest since the Jackson incident, that Eric had come to New Orleans and they'd been spending time together in a hotel on the edge of the city for those three unaccounted for days. On the night she was taken to the hospital, they'd been attacked by three strangers and Eric had taken her to the emergency room and left, worried about being there without permission.

Buffy jerked her hair dryer out from under the sink with a little too much force. This plan was terrible. Not only because it involved looking Sophie-Anne in the face and telling her she'd been boinking Eric in some tawdry love-nest for three straight days, that was bad enough, but also because there was no way she was going to buy that.

Eric seemed unconcerned though, and he'd been dealing with her for longer than Buffy had, so _maybe_ it would work. She had a feeling that he was just being over confident because Sophie-Anne usually bought his excuses though. He probably thought it was because he was so great at making crap up, but Buffy thought it was more likely that Sophie-Anne didn't want to deal with calling him out on his bull - it was easier to just let him do what he pleased as long as it didn't affect her or her goals. Would that be the case this time?

Flipping her head upside down, she turned the blow-dryer on high even thought it was pretty much pointless. No way was she going to actually have time to get it dry before Eric got there, plus she still had to find something to wear. If only she'd woken up earlier…

After Eric had left (well, to be honest, it was more her kicking him out than him just leaving), the maintenance man had shown up and fixed her door. Then a cleaning crew had come in and cleaned up the mess, shortly followed by a guy that repaired the cracked drywall. Next had come a new coffee table - which Buffy still had no idea where Rasul had found a place to deliver a table at two thirty in the morning. By the time she'd gotten the DVD of Attack of the Giant Leeches in and settled herself on the couch, Rasul had shown up.

His company was a relief after the mental battle with Eric. He made her popcorn and laughed with her during the cheesiest parts, never once asking about everything that had gone on earlier. She'd fallen asleep about halfway through Atom Age Vampire with her feet up on his lap, waking to the ringing of her phone around eleven this morning, still on the couch but with a blanket over her.

Amelia had been on the other end and had proceeded to tell her, in vivid detail that left Buffy speechless and disoriented, about Pam's prowess in the bedroom area. After hanging up on her and watching some cartoons to try to restore some of her innocence, she made lunch and fell back to sleep. Then she got woken _again_ when Pam's "makeover team" arrived. She let them give her a facial and a manicure before kicking them out and going back to sleep.

The plus side to her nearly narcoleptic sleep schedule was that she was feeling much better and the wound, while still very tender, was almost closed - she'd probably take the stitches out tomorrow. The bad side was that now she was running _really_ late.

A sudden wash of heat that had nothing to do with the dryer in her hands had her freezing in her frantic hair fluffing and her breath quickening. Blinking in confusion at the sudden lusty feelings that washed over her, she had a brief moment of wondering if she was becoming a lesbian too, since she'd just been thinking about Pam and Amelia, before realizing the feeling wasn't coming from her.

Whipping her head up so quickly she got dizzy, she looked in the bathroom mirror to see Eric leaning on the doorframe staring back at her, eyes glowing slightly and a look of hunger on his face. Her breath caught in her throat as she turned the blow-dryer off, the sudden silence making her heartbeat seem unbearably loud.

Looking at him now, she realized how glad she was that he had his memory back - a fact that had eluded her with the chaos and weariness of last night. That guileless look he'd had during his short stretch of amnesia was adorable, and he'd definitely still been attractive, but it was nothing compared to that darkly confident look he was giving her now. His presence when he was himself was sexy as hell - charismatic and dangerously magnetic, drawing her in even as common sense and self preservation warned her away.

He looked fantastic in his black button down and faded jeans and she was sure he knew it. Buffy tried to tell herself it that it just his feelings affecting her like this, not her own, as her traitorous eyes roamed over him. She was never very good at lying to herself…

Pushing off the door frame, he stalked further into the bathroom, not stopping until he was fully pressed up against her back. Large pale hands slid over hips, gripping slightly and pulling her against him while he ducked his head, rubbing his cheek against hers as his eyes slid shut.

"Wh-what are you doing?"

"Just part of the plan," he said, his voice husky and eyes still closed. "Sophie-Anne has to think we're lovers, right? So we have to smell like one another."

She breathed out a shaky laugh. "So you're molesting me for the greater good?"

"Molesting implies a lack of mutual interest," he said, lowering his head further and letting his tongue drag over the sensitive skin of her neck. "Are you going to deny you want me as much as I want you?"

A shiver danced down her spine as his cool breath brushed her neck and one of his hands started slowly climbing north of her hips.

"It's not me," she said, sounding unconvinced even to her own ears. "I'm feeling what you're feeling. Care to tell me why yet?"

A husky laugh burst over her neck, making her shiver again just as his hand reached her towel clad breast. Her eyes slid closed and she felt his answer rumble against her back as his chest pressed against it.

"You really think all that you're feeling is from me alone?" He raised his head a little, lips brushing against her ear as he whispered, "Then tell me to stop."

She opened her mouth to say the words, if only to knock that ego of his down a few pegs, but the words wouldn't come. The hand on her hip slid down over the hem of the towel, the feeling of his skin touching hers making her suck in a sharp breath.

"Tell me you don't want me," he said, his own rough voice exposing that he was just as affected as she was.

The hand on her breast gave a light squeeze then went up to where the edge of the towel was tucked into itself, holding it closed. The other wandering hand was now brushing the inside of her thigh, climbing higher with each beat of her racing heart.

"Tell me."

Her swirling thoughts tired to find focus. Her common sense told her that this was a bad idea, they barely knew each other, there were too many secrets - most pressing was how she knew that he was holding onto his control by a single fraying thread. But when his fingers found what they'd been seeking, all that came out of her mouth was a hoarse cry of relief.

Her head fell back against his chest as a groan answered her own sound of need. A burst of cool air had her opening half lidded eyes to see their reflection in the mirror. Her towel dropping to the floor; him wrapped around her, in her; the look in his glowing eyes as he met her gaze in the glass. It was probably the most erotic thing she'd every seen. The only thing marring the scene was the square white bandage about three inches above her belly button.

His hand drifted from near her collarbone to the offending item, brushing over it with a gentleness that was completely contradictory to the look of need in in his eyes.

"We'll have to be careful," he said.

She turned in his arms, hands gripping his shirt and jerking him down for a hard kiss and yanking his shirt open, sending buttons scattering across the bathroom.

"Don't you dare," she said when she pulled back, then shoved him toward the bedroom.

Yep, they were going to be very, _very late._


	28. Chapter 28

**Author's Note** - Ahoy, smut ahead! *coughs* Um, I mean…

**Warning**: The following contains sexually explicit material that may not be suitable for everyone.

**THIS CHAPTER IS RATED M**

**Chapter Twenty-Eight**

A picture in the hall crashed to the floor as Buffy propelled Eric into the wall on the way to the bedroom. He doubted they'd actually make it there but couldn't care less - he was far too involved in the feeling of her, soft and hot against him, to care about where they were. He grabbed her tightly and lifted, a groan ripping out of him against the base of her throat when the hottest part of her pressed against his bared lower stomach as her legs wrapped around him. Small hands slid under his open shirt, palms soothing and nails biting.

A gentleman would ask her if she was sure, carry her like a princess to the bedroom while whispering how beautiful she was, would be gentle because of her injury despite her telling him not to be.

Eric wasn't a gentleman.

He spun, slamming her against the wall, one hand palming a breast roughly while the other went to the button on his pants. He barely had the zipper down before he was in her. A hoarse cry came from one of them - which, he wasn't sure. His eyes clamped shut as he struggled to hang on to even an ounce of control. She was so tight and every stroke had her gripping him like a vice, barely allowing him to pull out before welcoming him back in.

He'd been with many women (many, _many_ women), but never had it been like this. Even in the throes of passion he'd always been able to keep his legendary control, reading his partner's body like a book and elevating the encounter into unheard of depths, making sure to almost drive them mad with pleasure before finding his own release. For him, the stroking of his ego - knowing that after experiencing love making with him, no other would ever measure up - was just as fulfilling as the actual act. But this time it was different. Somehow his own pleasure had gotten tangled up with hers. Wild and unscripted, it was simultaneously exhilarating and unnerving.

Her hands gripped the collar of his shirt, pulling his mouth to hers. She nipped at him, tongue tracing his fangs, making him shudder and snatch at his fraying self-control.

"Don't hold back," she murmured against his mouth. "Let go. I can take it."

If Eric were religious minded, he would've sworn a ray of light shown down when she said that - a reverent "ahhhhhh" of holy spirits accompanying her words. But he wasn't, and what they were doing wasn't likely to get any kind of holy blessing. Instead the only sound was the growl he gave as last of his restraint melted away.

His arms hooked under her legs, the backs of her knees pressing against the insides of his elbows while his fingers dug into the wall behind her. She cried out at the sudden brutal pace and deeper angle, but it was a sound of absolute ecstasy - animalistic and unbridled, it spurred him on. Pictures further down the wall crashed to the floor and the wall started to give way under the abuse. Deciding with the fraction of his mind that was still capable of higher function that it was time to move this elsewhere, he stepped back, his forearms underneath her thighs and hands gripping her hips as he took her with him. His thrusting reluctantly paused to allow him to aim them toward the bedroom, toeing off his shoes and stepping out of his pants as they went.

Not willing to let even a moment pass without debauching her in some fashion, his mouth went to her breast he carried her down the hall. His fangs brushed a nipple just hard enough to draw a drop of blood, causing the hands that had tangled in his hair to tighten to the point of pain as she breathed out, "No biting". But despite her words, she still held his head close and he took advantage of the scratch, sucking hard and letting the scant amount of blood explode over his taste buds. She moaned and writhed against him, once again tightening in that maddening way that spoke of completely inhuman muscle control.

Luckily they'd made it to the bedroom by this time. The haze of lust that curled through him had him practically hurling them onto the bed. A sharp crack sounded and the bed tilted, one of the legs near the headboard breaking and leaving them at an angle. Neither cared.

Harsh curses blending with terms of endearment in six different languages flowed from him while she panted out encouragement and challenges. Her warm skin broke out in a sweet musky sweat as he slid against her, heating his own usually cool body and tempting his tongue to play over her skin again and again. They were both so close, he could feel the tension climbing to feverish pitch as words lost coherence and rhythm became ragged.

Faintly he recalled her words about no biting, but the two actions were so linked together in his mind and he was so far entrenched in feeling instead of thinking that he didn't even pause when the pleasure reached its staggering peak.

His teeth sunk into soft flesh, hot fragrant blood filling his mouth as he filled her, the force of his orgasm so strong that his vision flickered in and out.

"Son of a-"

But her words were cried out with pleasure as she clenched around him, nails dug into his back as she cut off her own cry by sinking her teeth in this shoulder.

There was a faint warning going off in the back of his mind, but it was muted by the wild taste of her blood and dark energy it seemed to fill him with. His senses sharpened with each pull, a body tingling edge of raw power filling him as the spasms of pleasure went on and on.

That was the last thing he remembered.

* * *

><p>Buffy woke on the dining room table. Or what used to be her dining room table. She blinked at the mess from her tilted position, viewing the scene horizontally and feeling remarkably unconcerned. She took a deep breath and stretched. Her muscles were slightly sore but in a pleasant, lethargic way. As she moved though, she realized that she wasn't lying directly on that broken dining room table, something with a little more give and a softer texture than wood was between her and it. Raising up on an elbow, she blinked down at Eric's still form beneath her.<p>

Awareness slammed back into her, chasing away her lazy apathy like a bucket of cold water. Not because she'd slept with him, part of her had accepted that that was pretty much inevitable if they kept spending time with each other. And not because they were so incredibly late for their meeting. No, what had tendrils panic creeping up her throat was that Eric was disturbingly blood splattered and bruised. And completely unmoving.

She jerked upright like a jack-in-the-box, eyes wide as she grabbed his shoulders and shook him roughly. His head wobbled from side to side, but that was the only reaction. She shook him harder, choking out a hoarse, "Eric?", but there was still no response. What the hell had happened? Her mind scrambled for details, but her focus was slippery, coming back to the large, limp, vampire sprawled out on the crushed table. Her hand reared back and landed across his face before she even fully gave it permission. Great, first she killed him, now she was beating up his dead body.

She didn't even have time to lower her hand before a larger, cooler one grabbed her wrist, jerking her to her feet. After a moment of disorientation, she realized it was Eric who'd grabbed her hand, catapulting them both into standing position and looking a little wild - probably because she'd just smacked the hell out of him. Her relief outweighed her guilt at assaulting him though.

"Thank God!" She gushed, dropping her head to his chest. "I thought I'd killed you! You weren't breathing and not moving and-"

"I never breath," he said, giving her an amused smirk when she looked up at him. "I'm technically dead remember?"

"I know that! I was just a little disoriented," she defended with a pout, her heart rate dropping away from cardiac arrest. "Speaking of…"

Her eyes skittered over their surroundings again as she took a step back from Eric, noting for the first time with a clear mind that her apartment looked like a tornado had ripped through it. Even the kitchen was destroyed from what she could see. Tiles cracked and raked up; refrigerator on its side, contents spilling out onto the floor; cabinet doors dangling by bent hinges. The dining room was equally trashed, and when she look over her shoulder toward the living room, it revealed broken and overturned couches, the television in pieces on the floor and the new coffee table once again crushed into oblivion.

"Um… do you have any idea how this happened?" She asked.

"None at all. I seem to lose a lot of time around you…" He said, making a face as he pulled a wicked looking splinter out of his ass. "What's the last thing you remember?"

Her mind cast back to him showing up in the bathroom, the mind-blowing sex in the hall that had eventually made its way to the bedroom. Then…

"I don't know… I- Hey! You bit me!" She yelled, pointing an accusing finger at him as she remembered the unbelievably sensual feeling of his fangs sliding into her. Still, she was the Slayer, it was a matter of principle to be outraged when a vampire nom-nom-nomed on her neck.

"You bit me right back," he pointed out with a lazy smirk. "It was…."

Any other time, she would've taken the look on his face as perverted remembrance, but this time she knew better. She knew because she _felt_ it. _Felt_ that wave of comprehension followed by curiosity. Both of which were not her own.

"And I can feel your emotions even more now!" She said, throwing her hands up in the air. "Is this some kinda freaky side effect of spending too much time with vampires here?"

"You mean in this dimension?"

"Yeah-" Her words ground to a halt as both what she'd said and how he'd replied sunk in.

Her mouth opened and closed a few times, seeking a denial, an explanation, anything, but all she got out was, "You… remembered?"

He watched her for a moment, the serious look on his face at odds with the fact that he was completely naked. Finally, he shook his head.

"Your friend, Amelia, mentioned it to Pam last night," he said, walking into the living room and surveying the damage.

"Mentioned it? She just _mentioned_ it?"

He gave a shrug as she stopped beside the upended couch. "She was quite enamored of your red-headed witch friend. Gushing about the amount of power it would have taken her to transport three people across dimensions as she did."

Buffy closed her eyes and counted to ten. She wouldn't kill Amelia. She wouldn't kill Amelia. She wouldn't kill-

"Here I thought you just took me to some other city, when really you transported us across dimensions. Very interesting…"

She opened her eyes, but didn't look at him, she needed some time to decide how much she wanted him to know and what the possible consequences of him knowing would be. She rubbed her face roughly before looking up at him.

"Can we not do this now? I just- I don't think I'm ready to talk to you about that yet," she said. "Besides, we have more pressing issues. Like getting to that meeting and finding out what happened here. And why you're such a mess."

The look on his face told her that this wasn't the end of their conversation on the dimension hop, but he still went along with dropping it for now, much to her relief.

"Hate to be the one to point this out," Eric said, his tone saying that was a big fat lie. "But you're looking a little rough around the edges yourself."

Looking down at herself for the first time, she realized that Eric wasn't the only one blood splattered and bruised. And naked. The part that made her really pause was that her bandage was gone - along with the wound and the stitches. She shrugged it off. It was about time her Slayer healing got the damn job done.

"Where'd all this blood come from," she wondered, making a face.

"It's ours," Eric said, not sounding at all concerned with the mystery.

Buffy rolled that disturbing piece of information around before shaking her head. She didn't have it in her to play detective at the moment.

"Ugh, I need a shower."

Stepping over the debris, she headed back toward the bathroom, only to have Eric brush past her just before she could go in.

"No time," he said, grabbing a washcloth and wetting it. "Besides, it's better if we show up smelling like each other, remember?"

Buffy paused, remembering his evasive answer the night before about how they were going to make the Queen think they were lovers.

"Please tell me that us having sex wasn't your 'idea' for fooling Sophie-Anne," she said flatly, her eyes meeting his in the mirror.

Eric gave a loud laugh at that as he wiped the mystery blood off of him, then shook his head as he rinsed off the cloth and handed it to her.

"No, that was more of a long term goal. I was just planning on rubbing myself all over you and seeing how much you'd put up with. It ended up being quite a lot."

She snapped the wet cloth at him with blush and a scowl. He wasn't bothered though, he just laughed again as he disappeared out into the hall. A rustle of clothing told her he was getting dressed. She concentrated on giving herself a quick wipe down, making a face at how disgusting this was. She was actually going to go into a building filled with super-sniffers, into Sophie-Anne's _office_, reeking of sex with Eric.

But what sex it was… Her wiping slowed as she went back over what she _did_ remember. And oh, was it worth going over again… She felt like maybe she should feel some regret or at least a dash of embarrassment over the things they'd done, the things she'd said, but all she could think was, "_I want to do that again…"_

Shaking her head before that thought took hold and they were even later to their meeting than they already were, Buffy left the bathroom and went into her bedroom. It was like a disaster area in there, too. She did vaguely remember the bed being at an unusual angle, but now it was completely on the floor, all the legs snapped off. The mattress was only halfway on the broken frame and random bits of fluff were coming out of it. The curtains were shredded and laying across the room from the window, next to her dresser that was now on its side. Shaking her head at the mess and not even attempting to figure it out right then, Buffy stepped over the wreckage and opened her closet. Luckily nothing had been damaged in there. If her shoes and clothes had gotten hurt… well, that would be a whole new ball game.

Minutes later she was dressed in jeans and a black sweater with her hair pulled up in a messy ponytail. Eric was already dressed and waiting on her in the entranceway. Well, _mostly_ dressed. The state of his shirt would've made her laugh if she hadn't known they were going to be seeing Sophie-Anne. It would take a blind person to not know it had been ripped off in a fit of passion, and the queen was far from blind. Besides its rumpled texture, all of its buttons were gone, leaving lonely little trails of broken strings poking out along one side. Eric had tucked it in, maybe in an attempt to hold the two sides closer together, but the effect was a gaping "V" of smooth, pale flesh her eyes seemed particularly attached to.

Forcing her gaze upward, she scowled at him. "How am I supposed to concentrate on keeping our stories straight when you have all your man cleavage hanging out like that?"

"It's your own fault," he said with a sexy smirk, eyes darkening as he stepped closer. "You won't hear me complaining though. Anytime you want to strip me down and have your wicked way with me, feel free. I can always buy more clothes."

The small twinge of embarrassment she felt was overrun by a surge of heat. The memory of the way his skin felt against hers, the sensual roll of his tongue, the slide of his hands-

"Okay, time to go," she said, her voice a little more breathy than usual.

She spun around toward the front door, feeling his amusement and arousal as if it were her own.

* * *

><p>The trip to Sophie-Anne's compound was short - made even shorter by Eric's insane driving. Luckily, it was distracting enough to keep her attention away from leaning across the console and rubbing against him like a cat. Part of that was what she was getting from him - she could feel his attention even when his eyes were on the road, a low hum of energy, erotic and dangerous and completely focused on her. But it was far from one sided. Instead of taking the edge off her attraction to him, sleeping with him had only intensified it.<p>

When they parked, she couldn't get out of the car fast enough. Shutting the door, she leaned against it and closed her eyes, hoping the night air would cool her down. Eric had other ideas though. With only the barest hint of movement as a warning, he was suddenly pressed against her, lips crashing down on hers. One of her hands automatically went to that sliver of exposed chest, while the other grabbed a belt-loop and tugged him closer. Only to shove him away seconds later in a hard fought attempt at some control.

"Knock it off," she said, feeling flustered and not liking it one bit. "Remember the personal bubble talk we had? You stay in your space, I'll say in mine."

He gave an incredulous laugh. "Don't be coy. We both know 'personal space' is the last thing you want."

That struck a chord somewhere in her. But she was concentrating too hard on keeping her hands to herself to pay it much attention. This was just ridiculous. She knew it had been a while since she'd gotten any, but that didn't mean she had to turn into some kind of nympho as soon as the tide turned. Therefore, it was all _his_ fault. For being so damn good looking, and so, _so_ good in bed, and smelling so-

"Gah!" She yelled in frustration, finding her traitorous body had stepped closer to him and her hand was now molesting his chest. "You- you just stay away from me."

She marched toward the entrance to the building, stuffing her hands in her pockets and ignoring his low laugh as he followed. The guards nodded at them as they passed, a few gave curious looks, others gave lewd grins that made Buffy's face burn, knowing she reeked of Eric and vice versa.

She gave a sigh of relief when they reached the elevator, closed away from the prying looks. That relief didn't last long. As soon as the doors slid closed and it was just the two of them, she started to feel twitchy again. Eric, of course, didn't help matters. He purposely leaned forward from his position behind her to press the floor button and then, instead of pulling back when they started moving, he stepped in closer and whispered in her ear.

"Don't worry, it's not just you. It's taking everything I have not to press the stop button and fuck you senseless right now."

His tone was remarkably conversational, but the hard proof of how much he wanted her pressed against her back, telling her he wasn't nearly as unaffected as he sounded. She gave a soft little moan completely against her will and she felt the want in him spike dangerously.

Then the elevator doors opened.

It was a second before she could move, and when she finally forced herself to leave the confines of the elevator her movements felt slow and clumsy, her mind still stuck on the image he'd planted there.

That was why it took her a minute to see Rasul.

The look on his face was more effective than a cold shower in the arctic. His usual dusky complexion had faded to almost white, nostrils flared and lips thinned to make his mouth into nothing more than a furious line.

"Rasul…"

This was so bad. She never wanted him to find out like _this_… Could it _be_ any worse?

Ask and you shall receive.

Eric walked by her still form, an arm wrapping around her waist and sweeping her along with him. Within a few strides they were in front of Rasul, who Eric clapped on the shoulder and brushed up against without slowing his stride.

"Good to see you again. Hope there's no hard feelings," Eric said, not pausing for an answer.

Buffy jerked out of Eric's grasp and turned to her friend, hating the flash of confusion and pain she saw flicker across his features when he looked at her.

"Rasul, I-"

But he didn't wait for an explanation (not that she really had one anyway), he turned stiffly and marched down the hall without a single word or look back. Disappearing around a corner in seconds.

She rounded on Eric, furious more at herself than at him, but needing a target anyway.

"You didn't have to do that," she hissed at him

"Oh, yes," he said, an odd mix of deadly serious and smug. "I did."

He left her standing there as he headed toward the door guarded by the two giant Berts. Buffy looked back down the hall where Rasul had disappeared, then sighed and followed Eric, feeling slightly sick. She'd just gotten her friendship with Rasul back on track, now this had to happen. Logically, she knew he didn't really have the right to be mad - they weren't in a relationship and he knew she had feelings for Eric, but she couldn't help but feel she should've made the fact they'd never be more than friends more clear.

Feeling miserable, she ignored the Berts (they were still on her shit list for going through her stuff) and slinked into Sophie-Anne's office like a dog that peed on the carpet - dejected at its inability to control itself and knowing it was in trouble.

Eric was already seated in front of her desk, Buffy took the other chair while giving Sophie-Anne an apologetic smile that was more of a grimace than anything.

"This show of 'proof' was wholly unnecessary," Sophie-Anne said, her nose wrinkling as she looked back and forth between them. "Next time take the extra ten minutes to shower before meeting with me."

Buffy's chin dropped to her chest and she covered her eyes in embarrassment.

"Oh, we would've been much later than an extra ten minutes if a shower had been involved," she heard Eric say, completely unrepentant.

Where was a Hellmouth when she really needed one? Having a tooth-y, tentacle-y maw trying to suck her into the depths of the underworld would be so much better than sitting here and being slowly roasted alive by the burn of embarrassment.

"I'd rather you kept such information to yourself," Sophie-Anne went on dryly. "I'm not concerned with your personal exploits. What I _am_ concerned with is this attack on you, Buffy. The report I was given said you were gravely injured, but you seem well."

Straightening in her chair and latching onto the topic change, Buffy nodded. "I'm much better, thanks. And thank you for sending the doctors and stuff."

"Yes, the staff at the hospital had taken quite an interest in you. You're healing abilities are quite impressive. Care to explain that phenomenon?"

Buffy shifted uneasily in her seat, mumbling, "Just lucky, I guess."

Her secrets were slowly unraveling around her. Between Eric, Amelia and Sophie-Anne it wouldn't be long before her paper-thin excuses and half-assed answers wouldn't cut it any more.

But it seemed her reprieve would last a bit longer, because Sophie-Anne just gave her a flat look and said, "I'm sure there's more to it than luck, but for now all I need to know is whether this was an attack on you as a person under my employ. Has someone tracked you to me?"

"We're not sure," Eric answered before she could. "She didn't get a good look at her attackers and they ran when I arrived. I decided to get her help instead of pursuing. My apologies for not having more information for you."

Buffy barely kept from rounding on Eric, torn between hitting him and gaping at the insulting fake story. The men could beat her up and stab her, but as soon as they saw the big, bad Eric Northman, they went running for the hills? And her stupid bleeding body kept him from catching any of them? Oh, he was _so _going to get it.

They'd gone over what they'd tell Sophie-Anne of how they met, their secret meetings, but left the tale of the night she was injured intentionally vague, thinking too much detail would make it sound rehearsed. But here was Eric, changing the script last minute. And really, it probably would've worked - given Buffy's claim to memory loss and Eric's vampire skills, it was a falsity that rang true.

Except for one thing…

What Eric didn't know was that Sophie-Anne had personally seen Buffy in action. Had seen her take down Andre in seconds. She wouldn't believe for a second that anyone that could take her down would run from a confrontation with Eric. But he had no way of knowing that - see, keeping secrets got you in trouble.

Sophie-Anne spotted the discrepancy immediately of course. A slow scary smile pulling up the corners of her mouth and transforming her young face into something decidedly more sinister.

"Is that so," she said, but her eyes weren't on Eric, they were on Buffy. As if she could see the resignation of being caught in the lie on her face - and maybe she could. "Leave us, Northman."

She could feel the spike of anxiety go through him even though there was no outward change in him that she could see from the corner of her eye. He'd realized he'd made some kind of misstep, but had no idea what it was so he wasn't sure how to go about trying to fix it.

And knowing that's what he was thinking was totally wigging her out…

"Is there-" He started, only to be interrupted by Sophie-Anne immediately.

"Now," she said, her tone still polite, but a power leaking into the air made it clear he wasn't to question her again.

Eric stood slowly, his hesitation palpable.

"If Rasul's out there, please don't antagonize him any more," Buffy said, turning to him and trying to ease him into leaving. "I think you almost literally rubbing his nose in our relationship is enough, don't you?"

He gave her an intense look and for a second, she thought he would make a scene. But finally he just gave her one of his patented carefree smirks.

"I make no promises."

Buffy watched him leave with equal amounts of dread and relief. This was between her and Sophie-Anne, she didn't want him involved. Yes, it was his change of the story that had gotten her caught, but if it weren't for her, there wouldn't have been a need for a story in the first place.

But now it was just her and the vampire queen of Louisiana.

"Well, we both know what Northman said was a lie, so why don't you tell me what's really going on, Buffy. And for once, your evasive answers won't be tolerated."

Lying any more was out of the question. And if she just told her a scant amount, she was inviting more probing questions. What she needed to do was give her something big enough to satisfy her, but would keep her from asking questions involving the where and how. So, taking a deep breath, Buffy took a chance.

"Have you ever heard of Wolfram and Hart?"

Sophie-Anne, not exactly a fidgeter in the first place, went stone still.

"What did you just say?"

Her voice was barely audible, her face granite, eyes cold and flat. Buffy had no doubt Sophie-Anne had heard her perfectly fine, maybe she was hoping she hadn't heard what she knew she had, or maybe she was giving Buffy a chance to retract that statement. But Buffy wasn't going to do that.

"The Wolf, the Ram and the Hart. You've heard of them," she stated, not asked.

Sophie-Anne's head jerked slightly, a tense approximation of a nod. "What business have you with them?"

"It's personal," Buffy said. "Nothing to do with anything I do for you. I stepped on their big fat demon toes and they got pissed about it."

"You say it has nothing to do with what you do for me, but if the Wolf, Ram and Hart have a grievance against you then anyone near you could become collateral damage."

"I'm not their main concern," Buffy said, leaving out the 'yet', because as soon as she got something from Willow to go on, she'd become a huge thorn in their ass if it was the last thing she did. Which it might be… "I don't register enough on their radar for them to waste time on coming after. I just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time when I was attacked."

Sophie-Anne eyed her, gaze sharp and judging the truth of her words.

"And how does Northman fit into this?"

"He doesn't," Buffy said with a shrug. "We were together when I got attacked, but he got knocked out and woke up and found me bleeding, took me to the hospital. That's it. He has no idea what happened."

"Then why lie about it?"

"You know Eric and his ego," she said, really giving her pathetic ability to stretch the truth a workout. "He'd rather say he didn't see or catch them because they ran off than admit they knocked him out and almost killed me."

"I'd say he was rather lucky given the opposition."

"He doesn't know," Buffy said, making Sophie-Anne raise an eyebrow. "He doesn't know I know who attacked me, and I'd like to keep it that way."

"Very well," Sophie-Anne said after a beat, then cocked her head as she studied Buffy for a moment. "Since you need to recover before you're any use to me, why don't you go back to Shreveport with Eric. Maybe then I can actually get him to do his job instead of spending his time here."

Buffy blinked at the odd suggestion, waiting for the other shoe to drop, but Sophie-Anne just blinked at her and made a shooing motion. She didn't trust this apparent lack of interrogation over why she was involved with anything to do with Wolfram and Hart or her healing abilities, but she wasn't one to look a gift horse in the mouth either. So she left feeling relieved that the arduous task of revealing her secrets had been left for another day. She was wasn't getting fired and Eric wasn't getting strung up by his toes and beaten with a cat-o-nine tails or whatever the hell happened as punishment around there. That was good enough for her.

But Buffy wouldn't have been so relieved had she known that Sophie-Anne was watching her go with grave eyes, wondering if what she thought would be her greatest acquirement had in fact turned out to be her biggest mistake. If Buffy wasn't telling the truth about her importance to the Wolf, the Ram and the Hart, then only her disobedient sheriff and his people would bear the brunt of their attack. If nothing happened, then she could bring her back and put her to use again.

She'd just have to keep an eye on her. Sophie-Anne didn't become the Queen by suffering liabilities, and if that's what Buffy turned out to be, then that was the only this she needed to know. None of the other curiosities surrounding the girl mattered.


	29. Chapter 29

**Chapter Twenty-Nine**

Eric watched the scenery whip by from his spot in the passenger seat of Pam's car with a scowl. Nothing had gone as he'd expected tonight. And while his time at Buffy's apartment was a pleasant deviation from his plans, what had happened in their meeting with the queen and afterwards had been a much less enjoyable surprise.

Pam, though, was very amused by this turn of events.

"So, your words are what actually alerted Sophie-Anne to the ruse?" Pam asked, seemingly delighted by his mistake.

"It was Buffy's fault. If she'd just told me about her fight with Andre-"

He was interrupted by Pam's burst of laughter.

Really, it wasn't her fault. It was easy to say so, but he shouldn't have changed things at the last minute like that. It had just occurred to him as he'd taken his seat in the office that Sophie-Anne might not believe that, had he really been present (and in his right mind), he would've allowed Buffy to get so grievously injured _and_ allowed the perpetrators to escape. Looking back, maybe it had been vanity prompting that thought, but at the moment, it seemed the best course of action.

The look on the queen's face after that made it very apparent that it had been a mistake.

He'd gone out into that hall to wait feeling more trepidation than he'd felt in centuries. His imagination conjuring horrible scenarios of torture and punishment for Buffy because of his misstep. He'd listened through the bond for spikes of fear or pain, ready to intervene despite the consequences, but all he'd felt was tension lined with calculation.

When she'd come out and said they could leave, then told him in the elevator down that Sophie-Anne ordered her to Shreveport for the duration of her recovery, he'd been shocked. And overwhelmingly suspicious. Buffy had just seemed relieved, but Eric wasn't buying that this was just a lucky turn of events or that Sophie-Anne had been feeling generous at the moment.

When he'd asked Buffy exactly what she'd said to Sophie-Anne, she'd locked down tighter that Fort Knox - confirming his suspicion that there was much more going on than he knew of. Not that that was anything new these days. Pile that on top of the fact that Buffy refused to leave for Shreveport until she'd talked to that damned guard and how she'd told Eric in no uncertain terms that she didn't want him there when she did… Well… It left him in a less than charitable mood.

"Why are you so angry?" Pam asked, to which he just raised an 'are you kidding me' eyebrow as an answer. He'd told her the entire story (leaving out the blood induced black-out… that was something he'd have to ponder later), so she should know _exactly_ why he was so angry.

She shook her head and returned her gaze to the road. "You've slept with her, established a solid blood bond - without her even _knowing - and_ she's coming to Shreveport - where you can simultaneously get more of 'the best sex you've ever had', as you called it, and have more time to pry her secrets out of her. You have no reason to pout."

"I'm not pouting," he snapped.

"Then again" Pam continued, ignoring his outburst. "You still don't know anything about this other dimension she took you to or what happened there. You wouldn't even know you'd _been_ to another dimension at all if it weren't for me. Oh, and she _did_ decided to stay the night in New Orleans so she could talk to that guard instead of leaving tonight with you… Okay, resume pouting."

Eric turned his eyes back out the window, not deeming her words worthy of a response. Instead, he plotted ways to get Buffy to tell him about what she was keeping from him. That's right, he was plotting. Absolutely _not_ pouting.

* * *

><p>Buffy dumped another dustpan full of broken glass into the trash bag at her feet, taking a moment to both be grateful that her neighbors knew how to mind their own business and also feeling guilty for probably being the worlds <em>worst<em> person to live next to. Well, at least with her going to Shreveport for a little while it would give them a little peace. And it'd give the maintenance guys a chance to fix the damage her and Eric had wrought.

The clean-up was mostly just a distraction though - busy work to keep her focused on the awkward conversation waiting when Rasul got off work. So she swept, vacuumed and carried bags full of broken glass, shattered wood and cracked tiles to the garbage chute.

She still had no clue as to how this had happened. Granted, it wasn't the first time she'd gotten so wrapped up in sex that she hadn't noticed her and her partner causing insane amounts of damage to their surroundings. But with the house that her and Spike had wrecked during their first time, she at least remembered what had happened between _them_. She may have been oblivious to everything _around_ them, but she still remembered the act. With Eric, she remembered _nothing_ after their time in the bedroom.

So that accounted for the messed up hallway and the broken bed, but all the other destruction was a mystery. She would've thought the brief memory lapse was some weird side effect of him biting her, like some kind of vampy mojo in this dimension that she knew nothing about, if it hadn't been for the fact he couldn't remember what happened either.

_So he says_, the darker, more cynical part of her whispered. _He's already keeping secrets, what's one more? And you felt it, remember? That flash of understanding when he looked around the room? He knows. Or at least has an idea. And he's not sharing._

Buffy's hands stilled on the broom. She'd forgotten about that. There had been that moment of comprehension and curiosity from him. He _did_ know. Or at least had a very good idea. Plus there was the whole feeling-what-he's-feeling thing that he also wasn't telling her about .

She resumed her sweeping with a vengeance. Any guilt she'd felt about sending him off to Shreveport alone so she could talk to Rasul before she left vanished, replaced by anger at his secret-keeping and determination to get some damn answers when she saw him tomorrow night.

She'd left her front door open so she wouldn't miss Rasul when he got back, and finally, about an hour before dawn, he did. She heard the ding of the elevator and went to the entranceway, peeking out into the hall like a nosy old lady. When she saw it Rasul and not just another neighbor, she squared her shoulders and stepped out of her doorway.

He didn't even glance at her as he pulled his key from his pocket, turning his back to her and fitting in the lock.

_He's not going to make it easy on me, is he…_

She gave a small sigh and moved closer. "Rasul, can we-"

He stepped inside and slammed the door in her face.

She blinked stupidly for a second, looking at the grain of the wood in front of her as if it would just disappear because there was _no way_ that just happened. When it steadfastly remained she gave a little frown, then took a step away, pulled back a leg and kicked it open, hearing the frame crack with satisfaction as the door sprang open hard enough to wedge the knob in the wall behind it.

Rasul was standing in the entrance to the living room, his SWAT-like vest in hand, staring at her in disbelief. She just shrugged.

"Now we're even on door destroying."

His jaw tensed for a second and it looked like he was going to say something, but then he just turned away, walking further into the living room. But Buffy wasn't put off by the door in her face, so no way was a room change going to stop her.

"So that's it then? You're just going to give me the cold shoulder?"

"There's nothing to say," he said quietly, tossing his vest on the couch as he sat down and tugged the laces on his boots loose. "You've made your choice."

"And you're angry with me because of it."

He just gave a shrug, continuing to work his boots off.

"I know you don't like him," she said, her tone softening. "And I'm sorry you had to find out the way you did."

Rasul gave a derisive snort and his shoulders tightened. His boots were off now, but he was still seated, leaning his forearms on his thighs and looking at his hands dangling between his knees.

"I found out exactly the way he wanted me to. He all but tattooed his name on your forehead and then paraded you around so everyone would know."

"It wasn't like that," Buffy said, her cheeks flaring in embarrassment. "It wasn't planned or anything, it just happened."

"Maybe it wasn't planned by _you_. But you don't know Northman."

There was a flutter of dread at his words, because, really, he was right. She didn't really know him and if she was honest, she'd admit that she had her own doubts about his motives. But still, she didn't want to think he'd manipulated her like that.

"You don't understand," she said, shaking off her misgivings. "He was trying to keep me safe. He-"

Rasul gave a bark of humorless laughter. "So, let me get this straight. He convinced you to sleep with him and then go to a meeting with the most powerful woman in the state smelling like the two of you just stopped screwing long enough to fit her into your schedule, and somehow he made you think it was all for your own good? If I weren't so disgusted, I'd be impressed."

"It wasn't like that! He wouldn't do that!" She yelled, clenching her fists and taking another step into the room, losing her cool in the heat of her embarrassment.

"He _would_ do that!" He shouted back as he shot to his feet, his own restraint slipping. "And some part of you knows it or you wouldn't be so defensive!"

She shook her head in denial. "You're just saying that because you don't like him."

"You're right, I am saying it because I don't like him. But it doesn't make it any less true. That's part of _why_ I don't like him," he said, his eyes locked on hers as he rounded the couch. "Dammit Buffy, he's not good enough for you."

"That's not your decision to make!"

"I'm trying to keep you from getting hurt! But since you insist on acting like an idiot it seems that's a lost cause."

"Don't call me an idiot!"

"Then don't act like one!" He yelled, stopping right in front of her. "Take off the goddamned blinders and see what's staring you in the face! He knows you're important, powerful, unique. That's what draws him to you, not _you_."

"Gee thanks," she said with a breath of harsh laughter. "Nice to know that you not only think I'm stupid and incapable of making decisions for myself, but you also think the only reason anyone would be interested in me is because I'm the Slay-"

She stopped herself just in time, the button he pushed almost having her blurt out the fact she'd worked hardest to hide. But his words poked at a deeply hidden, but still raw insecurity.

"That's not what I meant," Rasul gritted out, thankfully missing her little slip in the heat of the moment. "You just don't -why can't you-"

"Why can't I _what_?" She challenged, taking a step closer and narrowing her eyes.

He looked down at her, his dark brows pulled together over darker eyes and his lips twisted with frustration. Then, suddenly, his mouth was on hers. You'd think, given the speed of the action and that it seemed to be driven by anger, that it would be rough - a crashing of lips and teeth - but it was so soft that it took Buffy a moment to even realize what was happening. When she did, when the light touch of his lips to hers finally registered with her, her first thought was to pull away. But his hand came up right then, brushing across her cheek gently and tucking her hair behind her ear as he cradled her face. The move was so tender, so sweet, that it made her pause.

_Rasul doesn't keep secrets from you_, a little voice whispered in the back of her mind. _In fact, he keeps secrets _for _you. At risk to himself._

It was true. He hadn't told about the bite marks or anything she'd told him in confidence or Willow, Spike and Angel's visit. Even though Sophie-Anne would probably like to know all of those things and would be pissed if she found out, he'd still kept all that to himself, knowing there'd be hell to pay if it came out. Not to mention he'd accepted her right off, from day one, secrets and all. And even though she made it hard on him, he'd still been there for her whenever she needed him.

While her thoughts twirled, Rasul took her hesitancy as acceptance and moved closer, the hand not on the side of her face brushing down her arm to rest on her waist. The gentle pressure of his kiss eased off and he pulled back a little, his lips still barely touching hers while he took an unneeded breath, his eyes closed, as if savoring the moment. Then he moved in a fraction, ever so gently taking her bottom lip between his and nipping at it softly, careful not to puncture her with his half lowered fangs, then soothing over it with a swipe of his tongue. A slightly strangled sound came out of him then, as if he were trying to choke it back and the force of it was too strong to hold it in. A breathy kind of groan, almost of relief, but stronger, salvation maybe… Like the sound of a man finding water in the desert.

It was that soft sound, so filled with emotion, that had her snapping back to herself. Even though Eric kept running her around in circles and her feelings for him were sketchy at best right at the moment, that didn't mean it was okay to turn to Rasul as some kind of substitute. He had strong feelings for her, that much she could tell now - this was more than just a crush to him. And sadly, she couldn't return those feelings. Not right now, not when she was so wrapped up in Eric. Maybe not ever. Maybe he'd never be more than a treasured friend to her. What ever the case, this wasn't the way to go about finding out.

She brought her hands up and placed them on his chest, lightly pushing and taking a step back at the same time. His hand slid out of her hair and the other away from her waist, his eyes still closed, but she could see in his tightening features that he knew what was coming.

"Rasul… I don't-"

"I know," he said, turning from her, shoulders slumping. "But I do. So I guess we're stuck until one of us gives."

She reached toward his back, fingers stretching, but she curled them back just before they could touch him. Her regret, her pity, her confusion - those would only make the situation worse. So she left.

* * *

><p>Although the directions Eric had given her were good, it still took Buffy a while to find Fangtasia the next night. She drove around the block twice before she realized the bar was actually in the strip mall she'd gone by on the right. Even after pulling in and parking, seeing the bright red neon labeling it as the place she was looking for, she still double checked her directions. Yep, that was it. She stared at the little gray section of building for a moment, trying to reconcile it with the image she'd had in her mind.<p>

For some strange reason, which now seemed silly, she'd been picturing something more like that bar in the movie with Patrick Swayze, _Road House. _Some seedy place out in the middle of nowhere with a dirt parking lot and a fight every ten minutes. Maybe even a blind kid singing the blues on a stage surrounded by chicken-wire, just for kicks.

From what she could see from her position in her car, this place was on the other end of the spectrum from that. With a Sam's and a Toys-R-Us nearby and set into a building with other stores that seemed to be in business, just closed for the night, it was remarkably normal. The gray exterior was flat and plain except for the neon name and a red door, which was currently propped open by none other than Pam herself. She was out of her suburban house-wife-wear and in something much more gothic, taking what Buffy guessed was a cover charge from the orderly line out front.

Shaking her head, Buffy checked her appearance one more time in the rearview and then got out of her rental car. She bypassed the line, getting a few dirty looks and not caring even a little.

"Buffy," Pam greeted with a smile which faded to a wistful look as she looked her up and down. "You look wonderful."

Actually, Buffy was thinking she looked a little plain in her skinny jeans, knee high boots and sweater topped with a snug waist-length wool coat. Most of the people in line had gone all out with their "vampire" look, the girls wearing heavy make-up, tight dresses and short skirts.

"Thanks, Pam," she answered politely. "You look-"

"Like Elvira's younger, more beautiful sister?" She asked with a lip curl of disgust, letting Buffy know that her compliment was more envy at being able to wear normal clothes than anything. But she quickly regained her apathy and gave a little shrug. "Part of the job, the vermin expect vampires to have no fashion sense apparently."

Buffy bit back her natural response at the slight against humans and gave a sympathetic sound instead. After all, she knew very well the wonders of crappy uniforms. She repressed a shudder at the thought of her burger flipping days.

"We should go shopping while I'm in town," Buffy offered, trying to cheer her up.

It worked, Pam perked up at the word 'shopping'. "Yes, we should do that. My treat, of course. I owe you."

"Owe me? For what?"

But Pam just gave a secretive little smile and waved her inside. "Eric's expecting you."

Casting her one last confused look and getting nothing but an enigmatic smirk in return, Buffy left her to her money collecting and entered the dim interior of Fangtasia. Bad Moon Rising played over the speaker system, making her smile at both the cliché and the familiarity. It always made her feel a little better when something here was exactly the same as it was at home - for some reason it made her feel a little less crazy for choosing to hang out in a different dimension.

The lighting was dim and the color scheme all red, black and gray. That combined with the music and Pam's outfit made Buffy realize that Eric was giving the people what they wanted. And, in a odd parallel to her own thoughts moments ago, was making them more comfortable with venturing into the unknown by showing them what they expected to see. It seemed to work well, too. The vibe in the room was mostly curiosity and excitement.

She eased her way through the thick crowd, taking a break at the bar to get away from the press of bodies around her. Business was certainly booming at Fangtasia. A tingling at her back had her turning back toward the bar, where what looked like a romance novel version of a young Captain Hook was serving drinks. Catching her look he gave her an infectious smile and after handing a woman her drink, made his way toward her.

With his eye patch, tall boots and billowy shirt, she almost expected his stride to be interrupted by the thump of a peg leg, but his movements were quick and graceful. His hair was a rich chestnut and beautifully curly, making Buffy sigh in envy. She'd wanted curly hair so badly when she was younger, but after a disastrous perm she'd decided that even though the grass was greener on the other side of the fence, if it kept her from looking like an electrocuted lion, she'd stick to her less green grass.

"Good evening, fair maiden," he said, his English accented voice a melodious baritone. "What can I get for you tonight?"

"Nothing, thanks. Well, actually, I'm looking for Eric, could you point me in the right direction?"

Looking over her head, he raised an eyebrow at whatever he saw, then looked back at her more curiously than before.

"So you're the one he's been waiting for?" He cocked his head and studied her a little more closely before nodding toward the back corner of the club. "He's back there. Just follow the heat of his gaze, dear lady." Then he left with a chuckle.

Following his sight line, she saw immediately what the vampire bartender had meant. Eric was staring at her from a booth seat, his gaze so intense she was surprised she hadn't felt it boring into her. Taking a deep breath, she dove back into the crowd and worked her way in his direction. She was still about twenty feet from him when she saw him stand, his blond head rising above the crowd. And like magic, they parted, either sensing his irritation as she could, or more likely thinking he was about to walk toward them and wanting to be anywhere but in his path.

She shored up her determination to get some answers and closed the distance between them. But as she did, she took in his wardrobe for the night and her purpose faded under a weight of the ridiculous spectacle in front of her. Instead of his usual outfit of jeans and a t-shirt or button down, he was wearing something out of a Cowboys and Indians skin flick. The jeans were still there, albeit tighter than usual, accompanied by cowboy boots and a leather vest. And that was it.

Stopping just short of him, she couldn't help herself.

"I'm sorry, did I interrupt the shooting of some wagon wheel porn?"

Eric looked down at himself as if he'd forgotten what he was wearing. "Human women like this look."

Buffy snorted. "I think you could be wearing a used garbage bag and as long as it showed your chest, women would still like it."

"But you don't?"

His irritation had faded a little and she could feel his amusement.

"Not even a little," she answered truthfully. There was no way she could think sexy thoughts about him when he was dressed like that. She just kept picturing him wearing a tiny cowboy hat with an elastic string under his chin, running around with plastic guns yelling, "Pow! Pow!"

He seemed a little put off by that answer and looked at his clothing with what Buffy hoped was a fresh take. Maybe he'd burn them when he got home if she was lucky. Or donate them to a poor gay bar. After a moment he gave up on his clothing appraisal and she felt his focus snap back into place. What that focus was exactly on, she wasn't sure. Probably getting her naked again. But it served the purpose of reminding her of her own goal tonight.

"Can we go somewhere quieter?" She asked.

He studied her for a beat then nodded. "My office is this way."

Falling in step behind him, she tried to keep her eyes from wandering south, knowing that one of the best asses she'd ever seen was just begging to be oogled, but also knowing that her focus would waver when faced with the distraction of the amazing view. She settled on one quick glance, she was human after all.

"When did you arrive?" He asked, leading the way through the people that parted like the Red Sea at his approach.

"I just got here to the bar, but I got to the hotel around noon," she answered.

"How'd things go with the guard?" He asked as they went through a door marked for employees only into a hallway.

Buffy tensed, a feeling of dread rolling over her as the thoughts of Rasul she'd locked away sprung from their cage at his mention. Following the dread was fear - fear that she'd lost her closest friend in this dimension, fear that Eric would find out Rasul had kissed her and it would lead to bloodshed, fear that the things he'd said about Eric were actually true.

Eric stopped dead in his tracks and turned to look at her with narrowed eyes.

"What did he do?"

Buffy gave a shrug, not meeting his eyes. "It just didn't go very well."

She could feel his frustration, his anger, his suspicions. It only served to reassert her resolve at getting some answers. She gestured for him to keep moving, she'd rather have the coming conversation (and probably argument) in relative privacy.

He looked at her a moment longer, maybe just to prove he didn't take gestured orders from anyone, but she could feel a resolve of his own hardening before he turned back down the hall and then went through a door on the left. She followed him in and shut the door behind her. As soon as the latch clicked he turned to her and she straightened her shoulders.

"I want some answers," they both said in unison.


	30. Chapter 30

**Chapter Thirty**

"I want some answers."

Buffy cocked an eyebrow as her own words came out of Eric's mouth. "What do _you_ want answers about?"

"Oh, I don't know, maybe the entire three days I'm missing," he answered with an eye roll.

"Sarcasm is very unattractive. Almost as unattractive as that outfit."

He ignored her barb and made his way further into the room. Not that there was much further to go, it was pretty small in there - big enough for the desk, two chairs, and a couch. Okay, so maybe it was just Eric making is seem smaller than it was. He looped around the desk and seated himself in the chair behind it.

"And what is it _you_ want answers about," he asked.

"Oh, I don't know," she said, imitating his earlier sarcastic tone. "Maybe the whole I-feel-what-you-feel thing."

His expression darkened a bit and he motioned for her sit in the chair across from him. What she really wanted to do was pin him down and force some answers from him, but in an effort to keep things civil, at least for now, she slid into the chair.

"It seems we've reached something of an impasse. We both have questions we want answers to, but neither of us want to give up those answers."

"Why is it so important for you to know what happened then?" She asked, hating that she'd been backed into a corner. "It's over. Done with. You came out fine on the other side, so what's the big?"

"Why is it so important for you to not tell me what happened then?" He shot back, his own frustration coming forward and making his accent a little more noticeable. "Do you have any idea what it's like to have a period of time that you know nothing about? A gap in your memory in which you have _no_ idea what occurred. Not where you were, who you encountered, what you said or did, if those actions will come around to bite you in the future. I've lived over a thousand years, Buffy, I've probably forgotten more than you'll ever know. But those were _my_ experiences. _My_ decision what to carry with me and what to shove to the back. _My_ choice of what was deemed important enough to remember and what wasn't."

She could feel his anger, his intensity, but also his honesty. It wasn't a ploy, it truly bothered him that he didn't remember. She'd been so caught up in her own resentment about being kept in the dark that she hadn't realized that he'd probably feel the same about the secrets she was keeping from him.

"Fine," she said, dropping her eyes to the armrest where she was tracing the grain of the wood with a fingernail. "I'll tell you about your missing time, if you answer my questions. Quid pro quo, Clarice."

She felt the thread of confusion from him, showing the movie reference was lost on him. He probably thought she was insane, calling him Clarice randomly, but he just nodded, some of the tension leaking out of him at her agreement.

"Deal."

Her stomach churned queasily at the thought of what she was about to reveal. How much was too much? Should she tell him all of it? Her faith in his motives had been shaken severely after her talk with Rasul, leaving her hesitant to tell him anything that could be used against her if things turned sour between them in the future.

"You have to promise me, anything we discuss in here stays in here. No one else can know."

Her voice sounded small even to her. She knew a promise was hardly a guarantee, but at least it would give her a little peace of mind. Eric, seemingly knowing that she needed this tiny bit of assurance, nodded seriously and sincerity radiated from him.

"I give my word."

Buffy got up out of her chair to move around the room, restlessness gnawing at her as she tried to figure out where to start. She didn't really want to start at all. She didn't want to answer questions about why she'd chosen to leave that dimension and come here. She didn't want to tell him that she had friends and family there. The thought of someone finding out, using them against her, made her feel sick. What if things went south with Sophie-Anne? What if Victor Madden found out? Russell Edgington? She was quickly accumulating enemies and her anonymity here was on borrowed time - if they were looking for a weakness in her to exploit it would hard for them use anyone here against her. But if they found out she had a whole stack of weaknesses somewhere else… She knew the people she cared about back home could all take care of themselves, that her calling had already put them in danger more times than she could count, but this was different. The last thing she wanted was for her jaunt here to cause problems for any of them.

She paused in her wandering and pondering when she spotted something questionable next to the couch. Leaning down, she picked up a metal studded bustier from the floor with her thumb and forefinger, not wanting to touch it. She held it up to Eric with a raised eyebrow.

He leered back at her and waggled his eyebrows, completely unapologetic. "I can get you one if you'd like."

"Pass," Buffy said, walking over and dropping it in the trash can next to the desk, steadfastly ignoring the flare of jealousy that went through her. Who knew how long that had been there. And even if it was a new addition, it wasn't like they were in some kind of relationship, right? He was just... They were... hell, she had no idea what they were.

A large hand gripped her around the wrist as she turned to go back to her office exploration distraction, forcing her to stop and look at Eric.

"Buffy, whatever it is that you tell me will be in the strictest confidence," he said, his eyes serious once again and his voice pitched low and soothing. He must've spotted her unease, her search for something to talk about besides what was on the agenda. Maybe she took too long to answer or looked too angsty while her thoughts tumbled around like shoes in a dryer.

She stared back at him, still unsure where to start. His brows were pulled down over blue eyes that she swore changed shade with his mood - lighter when he was being the cold and aloof vampire, accented with darker flecks when he found something amusing, and the color of a deep lake when he was at his most passionate. It scared her a little that she knew that…

She could feel that he meant what he said, that he really had no intention of telling anyone if she didn't want him to. There was no calculation behind his words, no plans to use it for his own gain. But would that last? Was Rasul right? Did he only want her because of her usefulness? Her uniqueness? Would he use that to-

"You don't trust me," he stated flatly, interrupting her spiraling thoughts as he released her wrist and leaned back in his chair. "Have I not kept your secrets thus far? Cover for you both in Dallas and in Arkansas? Did I not lie to the Queen for you? What do I have to do to convince you that I'm not an enemy?"

Guilt flared in her at his words and she went back around to drop heavily in the chair across from him, eyes on her lap. He was right. His secret keeping had blinded her to times he'd helped her. The two of them were the same really, both keeping the other in the dark for their own reasons and thinking theirs were the only questions that deserved answering. Decision made, she straightened her shoulers and took a deep breath, but still avoided his eyes.

"I took you to another dimension," Buffy said, diving right in. "The police were looking for you, witches were looking for you, Pam said to keep Sophie-Anne's people from seeing you… There wasn't anywhere I could think of to take you where you'd be safe from all of that and time was running out. But then I thought, 'Hey, no one would be looking for him in another dimension', so… It seemed like a good idea at the time…"

She could see Eric in her peripheral vision while her eyes were still aimed downward. He had gone still when she started talking, as if he thought any movement from him would stop her flow of words. When she paused and glanced up at him he leaned forward, forearms on his desk while the intensity of his gaze held her captive.

"How? How'd you get us there?"

The tension in her climbed. Was she really going to do this? Go all in? If she was vague and just said someone made something for her, would he immediately think it was Amelia? Would he think of Willow? He had seen her hop between dimensions with two passengers like it was nothing after all. Maybe she could keep him from asking too many questions if she was just straight with him. If he felt she was being intentionally vague it would be like waving a red flag at a bull.

"With this," she said, picking up her hand and tapping the ring slightly. "It opens a portal between here and another dimension."

He leaned forward more, to see the ring more clearly. His curiosity and focus on it made her uneasy, so she added, "My home dimension."

It worked. His eyes snapped up to hers as shock sizzled from him into her, then, surprisingly, he laughed.

"That answers so much," he said, leaning back and looking relaxed and amused. "You are certainly too strange to be from this dimension."

Buffy made a show of scowling, but her lips twitched a little. She leaned back in her chair, some of the tension leaking out of her at how well he took the bombshell.

"Well, it seems like that was a reasonable decision," he said with a shrug. "I would've made the same one if I had been in your position. But I take it things didn't turn out quite as you expected there?"

She huffed out a humorless laugh. "No, not really. The city I took you to was under siege. I wanted to keep you safe, but people were getting hurt, dying. I couldn't just leave…"

She rubbed a hand over her face, trying to dispel the image of that red sky and tentacled limbs sprouting from the ground, the sounds of distant screams.

"Under siege?" He asked. "You're world is in some kind of war?"

"No… Well, yes. But it's not a war that can be won, it's just one has to keep being fought."

Silence settled over the room at her pronouncement, the weariness in her voice as she said it practically a physical presence filling the room.

"Tell me," Eric's voice had lost its amusement and now carried the same gravity as Buffy's.

They were getting into uncharted territory now, something she'd had no intention of talking to him about. But now that she'd already revealed she was from another dimension, that she'd taken him there, had given him the cryptic 'war that can't be won' crap, there was no reason not to, really. And maybe, just maybe, she wanted him to know. To understand.

"It's not much different there than it is here. On the surface anyway. Countries, governments, religions, it's all pretty much the same. Even a lot of the music, movies and brand names are similar. But underneath… The only way I can really explain it is to say that the barrier there must be thinner…" She said, contemplating for the first time the 'why' of what made this place so different from home.

"Barrier?"

"Between there and hell," she said, looking into his eyes. She'd been prepared to see the disbelief on his face, to hear the scoff, but instead, she just got a brief feeling of uncertainty, followed by curiosity and confusion. She almost laughed, giddy with relief - she hadn't realized how much she wanted him to believe her, or how much she'd prepared herself for being outright called a liar or laughed at while her sanity was called into question. The fact that he was slightly skeptical but open-minded meant a lot to her.

"Let's start with vampires as an example. Here, when you're changed, you're still pretty much who you were when you were human, right? Maybe the darker parts of your personality get pulled forward, but you're still you," she said. Eric gave a hesitant nod - she wondered if it was because her description was off or if he just couldn't remember being human it'd been so long ago. "But where I'm from, once the human dies, the soul leaves the body and a demon takes up residence. It still has your brain, so it has all your memories, it can mimic who you were, but it's not you."

"That's completely ridiculous," Eric said, making her heart drop for a moment before he continued. "Why would a demon want to inhabit a weak human body? The ones they're born with are much stronger."

Again, relief flowed through Buffy. Relief and guilt. She kept expecting the worst from Eric and he kept proving her wrong. That said more about her character flaws than his.

"Maybe here. I'm not sure, I haven't met a demon here-"

"You haven't met Cataliades? Or his nieces?"

"_He's_ a demon?"

"Half demon, actually."

"Well, where I'm from, there are kind of different levels to demons. A vampire is low man on the totem pole, a lot of the other demons look down on them in fact. I don't think they have the power to be on earth without infesting a human body. And when they do, that body is faster, stronger and harder to kill."

"Are they killed the same way we are?" He asked curiously.

"Well, silver doesn't effect them, but crosses and holy water do. The sun will make them extra-crispy, but they can still move around during daylight hours - as long as they stay out of the light they're fine. Other than that, just about all the same rules apply. Decapitation, fire, stake to the heart. Although they're a lot easier on the cleanup - they just turn to dust as soon as you stake them. Poof and done. You guys get all gooey and gross…" Realizing she was being insensitive, she gave him an apologetic shrug. "Sorry."

"It sounds as if your vampires have quite an advantage - no affliction to silver and being able to move around during the day," he said. His voice was merely factual, but she caught a hint of wistfulness from him.

"Actually, they're not as strong or fast as the vampires here. And they tend to be kinda on the stupid side for the most part. Plus, you know, evil."

"Many would say we're evil as well."

"Only those that haven't seen real evil," Buffy said darkly.

Eric paused at the weight of that statement, then asked, "The war you mentioned, it's against-"

"Evil. The word of the day," she said, then shook her head. "We're getting way off track here. Okay, so I popped open the portal and whisked you away to L.A., my dimension's version of it anyway."

"Why L.A.?"

"It's the only place I could think of on short notice where you'd be safe," she said with a shrug.

He got up then and came around the desk, leaning back on it and looking down at her. "You could only think of _one_ place that I'd be safe? In your entire world?"

She paused. This, like the information about the ring, was a turning point. Did she trust him enough to tell him? Not really, but as he'd proved before, that didn't mean he wasn't trustworthy.

"Where I'm from, it's kind of my job to fight vampires. Well, 'the forces of darkness' is the actual job description. All the places I could've taken you, all the people I know, are either in on or part of that. So either they'd just see a vampire and try and kill you, or I'd have a whole lot of awkward explaining to do. L.A. was the only place where I could take you pretty much anonymously."

Eric looked like he was about to get sidetracked again with questions about her 'job', so Buffy hurried to continue. Not that she would've minded telling him - okay, she didn't really _want_ to, but she would, just some not right then. They'd be here all night just talking about her and her world if they kept wandering off on side topics, and dammit, she wanted her own questions answered soon.

"But, like I said, the city was being attacked when we got there. Well, 'attacked' doesn't really do it justice… It was being sucked into Hell."

Eric stared at her blankly. Blinked. "The entire city of L.A.? Was being sucked into Hell?"

"The entire city," Buffy nodded and shrugged. She knew how it sounded. "Demons were out on the streets killing people, the sky was turning red, it was pretty crazy."

"How is that even possible? How could an entire city just be sent somewhere else?"

"Have you ever heard of Wolfram and Hart?" She asked. Like Sophie-Anne, his sudden stillness gave her all the answer she needed. "You have, huh? Man, those guys really are everywhere…"

"You are mixed up with the Wolf, the Ram and the Hart?" He asked, his accent heavier and a feeling building in him that Buffy couldn't quite place.

"Not me exactly. The dark haired guy you saw in my apartment, Angel? He used to kind of be in charge of their L.A. branch, but it was just a trick and he ended up pretty much destroying it along with that other guy you saw, Spike. So, I guess Wolfram and Hart just got, like, uber-pissed and as a kind of punishment decided not to just attack them, but to take out the whole city," she rambled, not liking the mass of unidenitifiable emotions growing in him.

"And where exactly do you fit into this?" He'd dropped his eyes to the floor, his voice was quiet.

"Well, long story short, I ended up facing off with them, trying to get the city put back to normal, and the Hart stabbed me. I was worried I'd die and you'd be stuck in the other dimension, so I opened the portal for you. You ended up grabbing me and taking me along with you, we landed in the cemetery. I guess you remember everything after that."

That something she felt in him was gaining steam and it was nothing good. She could feel herself tensing even as she watched him struggle to get his questions out calmly.

"So we were there in L.A., doing what? For three days?"

"We were fighting demons, but it wasn't for three days. I'm not sure how long it was, but if I had to guess, I'd say it was less than twenty-four hours. Probably between twelve and eighteen. But time works differently in Hell. And how I know that is a story for another day."

He paused for a beat, then went on, still not looking at her. "And you weren't hurt trying to protect me from witches… Your injury was the result of your own recklessness…"

She narrowed her eyes and held back the urge to tell him that her "recklessness" had saved his life. Saying out loud that she'd thrown herself in the path of a sword to save his life would sound unbearably sappy, like she was in love with him or something. Telling him that it was just in her makeup to be self-sacrificing didn't sound much better…

"Yes," she bit out. "It was my own recklessness."

"And we were fighting against the Wolf, the Ram and the Hart?" He asked, his voice dropping even further.

"Mostly just their demonic hordes, those three just made a guest appearance near the end."

That thing she'd felt building exploded then, the mess of emotions still mostly too tangled to identify, but first and foremost in the pack was rage. He was on his feet without her even seeing him move, his desk crashing into the right wall with a shattering off wood and a flurry of papers. He turned on his office chair next and she thought it would follow the desk into the wall, but he seemed to gather himself a little and just gripped the back of it while he faced away from her. She waited for a moment, letting him calm down. She wasn't sure why he was so pissed, but every time she opened her mouth to ask the question lodged in her throat.

After about five minutes, Eric turned and dropped into his chair, leaning back in it and looking at the ceiling. "The Wolf, the Ram and the Hart," he muttered, bringing a hand up and rubbing his eyes in a very human display of weariness.

When it was clear he wasn't going to add anything, she decided it was time to get her own answers. She'd filled him in, now it was her turn.

"And the reason I can feel what you feel?"

He gave a demeaning snort that raised her hackles as he waved a hand disinterestedly, not even looking at her. "It's because we share a blood bond. It has that side effect."

"What the hell is a blood bond and why do we have one?"

"When I awoke in the cemetery and found you so injured, I tried to heal you by giving you my blood. Then, you bit me during sex, strengthening the bond."

He sounded distracted as he rattled off these details, as what he'd worked so hard to keep from her no longer mattered. Had he just been keeping it from her to have leverage? Or did he just think what she told him outweighed what he was telling her?

"So, this blood bond thingy… It's normal? Is it permanent?"

"Yes, it's normal when blood is shared and no, it's not permanent."

She was getting irritated with his short, to the point, answers. She wanted a good description of what a blood bond entailed, how long it would last, if there were other side effects. But once again something stopped her from answering, just as it had when she wanted to ask why he'd thrown the desk against the wall. As if there were some invisible line and pushing too hard for those things would be crossing it, causing… what, she wasn't sure… But, whether it was instinct or something in the bond whispering it to her, she was sure it wouldn't be good.

Making a mental note on the things she wanted clarification on, she moved on. "And what happened to my apartment? Don't tell me you don't know, because I know you do."

Once again though, he didn't seem to care about revealing what he knew.

"You react badly to vampire blood. You attacked me in the cemetery after I gave only a small amount to you, that's why I had to take you to the hospital - you were too crazed for me to get the amount of blood in you that would be sufficient to heal your injuries. I'm assuming you lost control again after tasting my blood last night. I'm not sure about why I don't remember, but I think your blood might have a similar effect on me."

"I attacked you in the cemetery?" She gaped, hearing what he was saying but not really processing it. "And we, like, _fought_ last night?"

"I'm thinking our energy's were focused on a different kind of release," he said, a flare of lusty amusement coming across the bond.

It was better than feeling that stew of negative emotions that had been simmering in the background, but the fact that he thought their crazy battle sex was funny just pissed her off. He had fits when he couldn't remember what happed before, but the fact that they probably had violent sex where they might've tried to kill each other was fine with him.

He shot her a wary look out of the corner of his eye, as if he could feel the rage building in-

"Oh my god…" She jumped to her feet, the sudden realization smacking her in the face like a two-by-four. "You can feel what _I'm_ feeling too…"

He gave a shrug. "The bond works both ways."

Her rage tank was reaching full as she stared at him, a tremor went through her and her fists balled at her sides.

"All this time… All this time you could feel my emotions and you said _nothing?_ Do you have any idea how _violating_ that is?"

"But it was fine when you could feel what I was feeling?" He asked, getting to his feet but still not seeming very concerned by her reaction. It just pissed her off even more.

"I _told_ you! What you did is like spying on someone in the shower or… or… like feeling them up while they're asleep!"

"Don't be dramatic. It's simply a sharing of emotions-"

"Which is _private_," she hissed. Then Rasul's words came back to her, deflating her as if she'd been punched in the stomach. "You manipulated me… You used what I was feeling to maneuver me like some kind of chess piece…"

"That's not how-" He started, his voice sharp. But she wasn't listening. Anger and betrayal swirled through her, and the fact he could feel that just made it worse.

"You hid- I can't believe you-," She took a breath and closed her eyes, trying to calm down and form complete sentences again. His stupid face seemed to inspire violence at the moment and not looking at him helped her rein in the urge to kick his ass. "Intruding on my personal feelings like some kind of voyeur was bad enough. But how could you hide what vampire blood did to me? How could you know that and _not _say anything? I work with vampires everyday, Eric! What if I'd gotten hurt and one of them had the same bright idea you had? I could've hurt someone! I could've _killed_ someone! How _dare_ you!"

Her eyes had opened about halfway through her furious rant and she'd stalked three steps closer to him, leaving them only a foot apart when he whirled on her.

"How dare _I_?" He hissed, fury making his face into something animalistic. "You involved me with the Wolf, the Ram and the Hart. And you didn't deem _that_ important enough to tell _me_! In fact, you acted as if I were being unreasonable to even ask what had occurred at all. I'd say you having me fight against beings like that, putting me and everyone that works under me in danger, and then keeping it secret is much more of an offense than me getting glimpses of your feelings and keeping your inability to handle vampire blood from you."

She hadn't thought her outrage could climb any higher, but she'd been wrong. The way that he just dismissed the way he'd traipsed around in her head, how he'd kept to himself that vamp blood made her into some kind of psycho…

Her hand drifted toward Mr. Pointy's place in her pocket.

A knock sounded at the door, gunshot loud in the silent tension filled room. Both their heads whipped around as it opened, revealing Pam.

"Sookie's here to see you," Pam said, eyes traveling over the mess in the office then back and forth between them in undisguised curiosity.

"She'll have to wait," Eric snapped.

"No, she won't," Buffy said, taking a deep breath and a step back. "I'm leaving."

"We aren't done here," Eric said, looking down at her.

"Yes," Buffy said, turning toward the door. "We are _so_ done."

She took a bitter kind of enjoyment in knowing that he could feel that she absolutely meant it.


	31. Chapter 31

**Chapter Thirty-One**

Sookie glanced around for Eric again, still surprised that he wasn't out there basking in the full house at Fangtasia that night. Not that she was really looking forward to dealing with Eric, she just wanted to get this over with and get home. Plus Alcide was waiting for her call - he'd wanted to come with her, not liking her going to a vampire bar alone, but Sookie had told him no. Eric was difficult enough with out giving him fodder for teasing, which her relationship with Alcide was to him. He'd spend all his time trying to embarrass them or trying to make Alcide mad, and they'd never get down to business.

Not that there was any business going down right now… She'd been hoping to get in and out, but silly her hadn't called before she drove in. Pam had told her at the door that Eric was already in a meeting and she'd have to wait at the bar for him to get finished. The smirk she'd worn told Sookie she might be waiting for a while.

Charles Twining, the new vampire bartender had been keeping her company, but it was a bar - he couldn't just stand there and chat with her all night, he had drinks to make, people to thrill with a flash of fang, women to impress with his manners and accent. She smiled watching him give a group of giggling college girls a courtly bow as he served their drinks, he caught her watching and grinned back. She liked Charles, she hoped he lasted longer than the last few bartenders at Fangtasia…

Taking another sip of her ginger ale, Sookie glanced around the club again, wishing Eric would hurry up with whatever he was doing. The press of bodies, and more so their thoughts, was grating on her. Their fear, excitement and, of course, the constant 'sex, sex, sex' that ran through their minds always made her a little uncomfortable in Fangtasia. Her shields did a pretty good job of keeping the abundance of thoughts to a dull roar, but she would've rather been able to get in and out as fast as possible.

Movement too quick and too graceful to be human caught her attention out of the corner of her eye and she turned to watch Pam gliding through the throng of people toward the back hall. Her first thought was 'good, maybe she's getting Eric for me', but there was some kind of tension in her movements that gave Sookie the impression that Pam's trip to the back didn't have much to do with her. She kept her eye on the hall and a minute later her jaw dropped as she saw Buffy emerge from the back and dive into the crowd. Sookie stood on the rungs of her barstool to watch her progress, but didn't call out to her. She didn't need her mind reading abilities to see the other blond was really, really mad about something. And having seen what lurked inside Buffy's head, Sookie decided to keep her distance for now.

What was she doing there, anyway? Why was she meeting with Eric? She wondered these things as she watched Buffy make it all the way to the exit and disappear out into the darkness. Still standing on the stool rungs, she turned to look back toward the hall to see Eric standing there, not that she needed to stand on the stool to see _him_, but if she hadn't been up there she wouldn't have seen the way the bar-goers had backed so completely away from him that it left a fifteen foot semi-circle around his giant figure. Like with Buffy, she (and obviously the others at the bar) didn't need any special talents to know a pissed off vampire when she saw one.

Pam was standing to the left and a little behind Eric. While his eyes were locked on the door Buffy had disappeared out of, Pam's were on her. Sookie could swear she mouthed, "Good luck" to her behind Eric's back. Not a good sign…

Pam leaned forward and said something to Eric, then, with what looked like Herculean effort, he ripped his eyes from the door to land on Sookie. For once, he didn't look happy to see her. Sookie swallowed hard and sat back down, cursing her timing as Pam started to make her way back through the crowd toward her. She glanced at the door longingly, suddenly wishing to be anywhere but there in that bar. It wasn't too late, she could still just leave… She shook her head a little, feeling guilty for even considering it. Sam was counting on her, no way was she letting him down by ducking out before she got what she came for.

"Eric will see you now," Pam's voice said from behind her.

Taking one last sip of her ginger ale, she sat it back down on the bar and gave Charles a little wave goodbye.

"What was Buffy doing here?" She asked, unable to keep quiet as she followed Pam through the crowd.

"Pushing the Sheriff's buttons," Pam said, glancing back at her with a slight smile. "I like her simply because I've never seen him so out of sorts. It's amusing."

The thought of Eric 'out of sorts' was less funny and more mind boggling to Sookie. He always seemed so in control, unruffled by anything, and pretty scary a lot of the time. But, thinking about what little she knew of Buffy, she could actually see how the petite blond would throw off Eric's games. She didn't seem intimidated by anything or impressed easily, two things Eric was probably used to from everyone he met. She might've found it as amusing as Pam did if she hadn't been the one that had to deal with him after meeting with her…

The stopped by a table near the back and Pam gestured to Sookie to take a seat across from Eric. He looked even more foul tempered up close. Great.

"Sherriff, your second blond of the night," Pam said as Sookie sat down, resting her coat in her lap. "Hope this meeting goes better than the last. They don't make these tables anymore, so if you destroy it, it'll be costly to replace."

She whirled and was lost in the crowd in the span of a breath, leaving Sookie with a vampire that looked about a hair away from violence. She'd have to remember to thank her later.

Eric scowled off toward where Pam disappeared, then his gaze drifted toward the exit. After an awkward moment of silence, he gave Sookie a fraction of his attention.

"Why are you here?"

Well, then. No flirting or mind games tonight. But she was just fine with that. The quicker they got down to business, the quicker she could get out of there.

"I'm here to ask a favor for Sam."

"And he sent you to do it for him?" Eric asked, giving her a shred more attention. "He's either very smart or very stupid."

"He's neither," she said snippily. "He's very leg-broke. He was shot last night, his leg was broken."

Eric's attention sharpened and turned to fully face her. It was only then she realized he'd been angled toward the front door this entire time.

"How did this come about?"

So she explained about going out into the parking lot the night before, shivering as she remembered the sound of the gun shot, Sam crumpling to the ground. Shaking herself out of the horrible memory, she got down to why she was there.

"Our substitute bartender isn't up for the kind of stuff that's been happening at the bar lately. So Sam wants to know if he can borrow a bartender from you until his leg heals."

"Why's he making this request of me instead of the pack master of Shreveport. Surely your new boyfriend could assist you."

She'd been wondering when he'd bring up Alcide, but if that was as far as his needling would go then she'd count herself lucky.

"Someone's gunning for the shifters and the weres in Bon Temps," she said quietly as she clenched her suddenly trembling hands together. "Besides Sam, two others got shot - Calvin Norris, a werepanther, was shot a few days ago, and Heather Kinman before that, she was a werefox."

"I don't see what this has to do with me," Eric said blandly, his attention sliding back toward the door again.

Sookie gritted her teeth. Really, she wasn't surprised, but his insensitivity was still grating. Heather Kinman had only been nineteen, she'd been drinking a milkshake at the sonic when she was shot and killed. Calvin would make it, but it was a close call - he'd been shot in the chest. But she didn't try to explain to Eric that these were good people. He wouldn't care about the lives of some strangers, only how those lives affected his own.

"I'm trying to explain why Sam doesn't want to involve any shifters in this," she said, reaching for patience. "And I don't want Alcide getting involved. I don't even want him visiting me until this person's caught. He's already on me about coming to stay here in Shreveport until this thing blows over, if I tell him that things at the bar have been so crazy lately that we can't do without a supe bartender, he'll have even more ammunition."

She sat back in the booth, crossing her arms. She really hadn't meant to say all that, but it had been building all day. Ever since she'd told Alcide about what happened with Sam. He'd already been worked up about Heather and Calvin, but it was Sam's shooting - and her being less than a foot away from him when it happened - that really set Alcide on the crusade to get her out of Bon Temps. She'd heard about it all day from him, calling over and over again because she'd told him she'd stop seeing him if she so much as saw his face anywhere near Bon Temps. Unfair? Yes. Maybe even a little cruel, backing him into a corner like that when all he wanted to do was keep her safe. But she wouldn't have Alcide getting shot just because he came to visit. The thought of him a hospital bed like Calvin…

Plus, they'd only been dating a few months. Moving in together, even temporarily, wasn't something she was ready for. She'd only had one serious relationship before and Alcide wasn't too far removed from his time with Debbie, and though she believed neither of them were hung up on their exes (she only saw Bill once in a blue moon these days, and Debbie had moved off to California after marrying her wereowl), it still seemed dangerous to rush things this early in their relationship.

"He's right," Eric said, glancing at her before looking back out to the door. She wasn't sure whether to be relieved at his lack of attention or annoyed. "You should stay in Shreveport until the shooter is caught."

Sookie shrugged, "Right or not, I'm not going."

"Why? Out of your love of your job as a barmaid? Or loyalty to the shifter that used you as bait to secure a new bartender for himself?"

Wow, Eric really wasn't wasting any words for the sake of manners tonight…

"Both," Sookie said, refusing to rise to his words or share any of her earlier worries. "Plus, I have bills to pay Eric, not like I can just skip off from work whenever I want."

"Herveaux has more than enough money to cover your bills, Sookie," he said, but then he must've caught the sour look on her face because he laughed slightly. "Ah, pride. You know that's a sin, correct?"

"I don't need lessons on sinning from you off all people, Eric."

She wished she could suck back those words as soon as they slipped out. Not because they weren't true, but because of the dark look that washed over Eric's face when she said them.

"You think of me as evil? As a liar? A manipulator? That I do whatever I please just because I can, with no thoughts to anyone but myself?"

The question was so specific and so obviously not aimed at what she'd said, Sookie was speechless for a moment. Sensing this was a delicate moment, she chose her words carefully. But she wasn't going to lie either.

"I don't think you're evil. Or a liar. You… leave some stuff out sometimes, but I'm not sure that's the same as outright lying… But, yes, you are a manipulator. You use people, Eric. Sometimes, I'm not even sure you do it on purpose, it's just something you've done so many times it's just second nature now."

"It makes you distrust me? Hate me?" His expression was blank, unreadable.

"Hate you? No. Distrust you? Yes. But, I guess it just makes me sad more than anything else."

He leaned back in his seat and let his eyes wander off toward the door, his face still expressionless.

"I'll send Charles with you," he said after a minute, leaving the delicate discussion behind much to her relief. He raised his hand and beckoned Charles from the bar. "Here are the terms. Sam provides unlimited blood for Charles and a safe place to stay. You might want to keep him at your house, I believe Bill had a place there, correct?"

"And I might not," she shot back, annoyed that he assumed she'd just let some strange vampire stay in her home.

He shrugged. "As long as you agree to the terms, it matters not to me the details."

"I agree to the terms," she said, feeling that made it official or something. "Free blood and lodging - though it won't necessarily be with me. What about money?"

"I'll take my payment in kind. I like Sam owing me a favor."

Charles appeared by the table a moment then, looking curious but not subservient.

"This woman will tell you what to do. As long as she needs you, she is your master."

"Eric, no!" Sookie gaped. "If you make him answerable to anyone, it should be Sam."

"Sam sent you. I'm entrusting Charles direction to you."

She could tell by the look on his face that he wouldn't be talked out of changing his mind. She didn't like being in the middle of this arrangement, but she guessed she kind of asked for it when she agreed to come talk to Eric in the first place. Arguing about being responsible for Charles would be pointless and would just waste more time. Knowing Alcide, he was probably climbing the walls about now. She really hadn't expected to be here this long…

"Let me get my coat and I'll be ready anytime it pleases you to leave," Charles said with a bow. He seemed completely neutral about being handed off to her, making guilt flare up in her. She had the sudden urge to apologize, but before she could, his unpatched eye looked up at her from his still bowed position and he gave her a wink, then he spun and disappeared back into the crowd. She felt a little better knowing he wasn't mad about being forced to go off with someone he didn't know to do god knows what.

Silence drifted between her and Eric as they waited for Charles' return and Eric's eyes drifted once again toward the door. She had the desire to ask what Buffy had been doing there, what they had been fighting about, but held her tongue.

"What do you think of my clothing?" He asked out of nowhere.

"It's... uhhh-" she felt herself blush a little as her eyes fell on the wide expanse of chest. "Nice. I'm sure you get lots of attention in it."

Instead of making him happy, the answer seemed to shove him further into his dark mood. After another moment of silence, he asked, "You saw into her mind, what was it like?"

Sookie stiffened. Even though the question was random, she knew perfectly well who he was talking about. It wasn't something she wanted to think about, and definitely not something she wanted to talk about. But the quiet, seriousness of his voice, the genuine, sad kind of curiosity it intoned made her rethink her immediate denial of knowing at all.

She let herself remember what it was like, the heat, the sand, the-

"Desolation," she said softly. "A kind of soul deep loneliness that I didn't even know existed. Like she's the only person in the world. But… there's strength in her, too." The dark eyed woman popped in the head. "Something wild and untamable. And very, _very_ dangerous."

She clenched her hands in her old worn jacket that rested in her lap, a little mad at herself for telling him so much. But when her eyes rose (she hadn't even realized she'd dropped them to the table while she remembered), the look on his face wasn't one of triumph at learning a secret, or calculation of how to use that information to his advantage. Instead, as he stared off toward the door, his face was twisted in a look she'd never imagined she'd see on his face - regret.

Again she felt the urge to apologize, but she wasn't exactly sure what for. Making him feel bad? Betraying Buffy's secret mindscape? She looked back at the table and bit her lip.

"By the way, have you ever run across a kind of mean-looking vampire named Mickey?" She asked, latching onto a subject change.

Eric's head whipped back around towards her, startling her with his sudden full attention. "Where have you seen Mickey?"

"At Merlotte's," she said, blinking in confusion at his intense reaction, then went on to explain that he'd been there with Tara, blushing when she had to remind him that she was the friend of hers she's danced with in Jackson.

But instead of taking the time to leer and tease her, he just said, "I thought she was under the protection of Franklin Mott."

"Well, they were dating," she said with a shrug. "I don't know why he let her go out with Mickey… Maybe he was just a bodyguard or something. So, what's the bottom line on this guy?"

"Stay away from him. Don't talk to him, don't cross him and don't try to help your friend. He stopped in, but I didn't see him, he spoke to Charles mostly. Charles said he's rogue, capable of things that are barbarous. He'll do things the rest of us won't do… Stay away from him, Sookie."

Sookie didn't like the sound of that at all. Things the rest of them won't do… A shudder ran through her, she didn't want to know what those things might be. But it wasn't like she could just leave Tara to fend for herself. She didn't have that many friends, she wasn't willing to just stand back and watch one go down the drain…

Catching sight of Charles making his way back toward the table, she stood and put her coat back on. Eric, showing a moment of attentiveness, got up and helped her into it.

"Um, I know it's none of my business," she said, tugging slightly on her coat sleeves. "But… maybe you should just apologize."

"Apologize?"

"To Buffy."

"What makes you think she's the one owed an apology?" He asked. He sounded slightly amused, but his eyes showed he was anything but.

"Just a thought," she said, turning to meet Charles. "Thanks for the bartender, Eric."

The cold night air was a relief after the stifling crowd in the bar, and Sookie paused outside just to take a deep breath. Meetings with Eric were always stressful, combine that with the press of bodies and minds and it was pretty much exhausting. With a mental apology to Sam's bank account, she thanked God that Merlotte's wasn't that busy.

Speaking of… Charles stood beside her, seemingly completely at ease with this new situation. Feeling like it would be rude to leave him in the dark any longer, Sookie explained that he was just taking over another bartending job as she led the way to her car. It was while Charles was asking about what Merlotte's was like that the flash of blond hair caught her eye. She paused and watched for it again. There - a flickering of blond hair, caught by the breeze, floated out from behind the back of a dark SUV. Concentrating her senses in that direction, Sookie poked lightly at the mind there. What she found was the familiar static of someone she knew.

Buffy.

Changing course, she angled her way toward the SUV. It was boxy and expensive looking with dark tinted windows and chrome wheels that caught the meager light in the parking lot and shone brightly. It reminded Sookie of one of those cars you saw on TV, the ones the drug dealers drove on those cop shows. Coming around behind it, she found Buffy sitting on the bumper, feet swinging above the ground and hands gripped together tightly in her lap.

"Listen, buddy, I'm not-" She started, lifting her face to them. She stopped when she met their eyes and blinked in surprise. "Sookie! Oh, and Captain Jack. Sorry, thought you were some jackass coming to start some trouble. I am _so_ not in the mood."

"Fair lady, the name is Charles, not Jack," Charles said, looking confused but still giving a little bow as if he were apologizing for _not _being named Jack.

"I was just-" Buffy sighed and shook her head. "Never mind. Sorry Charlie, we didn't get introduced inside. I'm Buffy."

Charles looked like he'd swallowed a bug, obviously 'Charlie' wasn't a favorite version of his name. But he just said, "A pleasure."

"Buffy, why are you sitting in the parking lot?" Sookie asked. She really wanted to know what she was doing at Fangtasia at all, but that seemed a little nosey, so she settled on the more obvious question.

"Got into an argument with Eric. I'm kinda worked up," Buffy said with a wave of her hand. "I wanted to wait until I calmed down a little before I drove, but it's taking a while…"

Having seen Buffy's driving first hand, Sookie silently agreed that her getting behind the wheel when she was upset was probably a really bad idea.

"It's not really safe sitting out here by yourself," Sookie said, then felt immediately silly. Given that Buffy had taken out a handful of armed Fellowship guys on her own and waltzed into the King of Mississippi's compound to save Bill, she seriously doubted anything that came at her in a parking lot would be that big of threat to her.

Buffy didn't seem offended though, she just gave a shrug and said, "My hotel's only about five miles from here. I'll just call a cab - come back for the car in the morning."

"Don't waste your money, I'll give you a ride."

Buffy looked up at her in surprise, "You don't have to do that. My hotel might be in the opposite direction your going."

"Even if it was, five miles is no big deal. I have to take Charles to his hostel to get his things anyway, it's not like I'm racing home."

Buffy still looked a taken aback by the offer, but then she broke out in a smile that was much to large and grateful for the small thing Sookie was doing. It reminded her with a pang of sadness of her words to Eric about the loneliness she'd sensed in Buffy. It made her determined to become friends with the other blond instead of just occasional acquaintances.

"So, do you come here a lot Sookie?" Buffy asked, looking over at her curiously as they made their way to her car.

Shaking her head a little too emphatically, Sookie answered, "No. Not if I can help it anyway. Only when I have to meet with Eric for something."

A tension she couldn't see but could definitely feel shifted the air around Buffy when she mentioned Eric, the static she usually got from her mind shifting to something of an oddly lower pitch. She was curious, but didn't probe further, afraid of getting sucked into that sandy landscape again.

"The bar I work at is short a bartender," she went on, hoping to chase away the strain Eric's name had placed on the conversation. "So Charles is going to come and fill in for a while."

Reaching her old Nova, Sookie unlocked the doors (the old fashioned way, by climbing all over the seats - no fancy electronic locks for her) and watched as Charles continued to play the gentleman, opening the passenger door for Buffy and taking the back seat for himself.

Once everyone was settled, Sookie got directions from them both. Turned out that Charles hostel was actually the one out of the way and Buffy's hotel was directly on their path back to Bon Temps. At Buffy's insistence, they headed to Charles' hostel first to save time.

"So, what happened to your old bartender," Buffy asked, curling a leg up underneath her and turning in the seat to face Sookie more fully.

"Uh, well, he got shot," Sookie said, glancing in the rearview at Charles. She'd meant to give him the full story anyway, might as well do it now. Navigating the streets of Shreveport, she filled them both in on what had been going on in Bon Temps. About the recent troubles in the bar and the need for a bartender that could handle himself, to the shootings. Charles didn't look surprised or bothered by any of it. Buffy, on the other hand, looked horribly sad as she heard about the death of Heather Kinman. It felt nice having someone to share in the knowledge of what a tragedy it was after the apathetic response of both Eric and Charles.

Buffy was quiet for the remainder of the drive to the hostel, and despite not trying, Sookie still picked up on the image of a pretty girl with long brown hair and a big smile. She looked around the same age as Heather had been. A friend she'd lost? A family member? The static of Buffy's thoughts ate the image up before she got anything else.

She parked in front of the hostel and watched as Charles went inside. The sight of the vampires coming and going made her suddenly very glad she'd offered Buffy a ride. She should've felt silly that a girl two or three inches shorter and probably twenty pounds lighter made her feel safe, but she didn't.

Pulling out her phone, Sookie took the time to call Alcide while they waited. He answered on the first ring.

"Where are you? Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, it just took a while to meet with Eric," she said, almost cringing at having to say his name out loud in front of Buffy again.

Alcide sighed in relief, and in that brief moment of silence, Sookie could hear the background noise on his end.

"What's that- Are you in your truck?"

"Umm-"

"And where exactly are you going in the middle of the night, Alcide?"

"You took so long, I was worried something happened…"

"So you were just going to march into Fangtasia and what? Rescue me?"

"If I had to, yes," he said stubbornly.

She was torn between being angry and flattered. She liked that he worried about her, but hated the thought of him getting himself in trouble or hurt because of it. It was the whole reason she'd made him promise not to come to Bon Temps until after the shooter was caught.

"Well, that's not necessary, so go home," she settled on saying. "The new bartender is getting his stuff from his hostel right now, so soon I'll be on my way back home."

"You're sitting outside of a vampire hostel by yourself." An exasperated statement, not a question.

"Nope, Buffy's with me," she answered, once again very glad that she'd run into her.

"Buffy?" Alcide said, surprised. "What- where-"

"She was at Fangtasia. I offered to give her a ride back to her hotel instead of her wasting money on a cab."

There was a beat of silence where she would've wondered if her call had been dropped if it hadn't been for the road noise on his end.

"You should take her with you back to Bon Temps," Alcide said finally.

"I should what?"

"Take her with you. You won't let me help you." There was definitely more than a drop of bitterness in that statement. "So have her stay with you. She's not a shifter or a were so she won't be a target, and she's used to dealing with dangerous supe stuff, so maybe she can help."

Sookie turned and huddled closer to the window, dropping her voice. "Alcide, I can't just-"

"I'll go," Buffy said, making Sookie whip her head around. Buffy was staring at her with grave eyes. "I'll go to Bon Temps with you. I don't have any plans and I'd rather be doing something useful. If I can help, then I'd like to try."

"See, she wants to help," Alcide said, obviously having heard her. "Listen, take her with you and I promise to back off a little. It's just the thought of you out there in that big house all by yourself with some maniac running around shooting people. It drives me crazy, Sookie."

"I'm not a shifter, Alcide. Nobody's gunning for me," she said softly, feeling guilty at his concern.

"No, but you're dating one. What's to say this person's grudge won't extend to you? And look at how close you came to getting hit just by standing with Sam."

He had a point there, but still... "I can't just ask her to-"

"You're not asking," Buffy said. "I'm insisting."

Charles climbed back in the car with his bag while Buffy stared at her, eyes resolute. Sookie looked back and forth between her passengers. God help her, she was taking Charles the vampire pirate and Buffy the- whatever she was, back to Bon Temps with her. She wondered if the town would ever be the same…


	32. Chapter 32

**Chapter Thirty-two**

The last of the sounds from the club dwindled away as the staff finished their duties for that night and left. Eric usually didn't mind the chaotic noise of the humans - shrieking, dancing, yelling, laughing - but on this night, he was glad when the silence descended. His own thoughts were chaotic enough.

He sat in his office chair, ignoring his desk that was still on its side by the wall and the papers scattered around it. It might seem like a loss of control to an outside observer, but since it was Buffy herself that he'd _really_ had the urge to throw, it was actually an impressive redirection of his rage.

The Wolf, the Ram and the Hart… How could she be so _foolish_? And the same went for him. It was hard to believe he'd been so completely wiped of his memories that he'd agreed to cross them with her. As if it should've been natural instinct to stay out of their way. Because if their attention was drawn back to this world…

He closed his eyes wearily, casting his mind back eight hundred years. He'd been barely two hundred at the time the Wolf, Ram and Hart came to this world. There had been whispers before that of course, a great evil that wasn't hindered by dimensional walls, but it had just been a myth. Or so they'd all thought.

Then they had come.

Eric hadn't ever seen them personally, but he and every other vampire, shifter, witch and magical being had felt their arrival. A bone deep chill of darkness and power, like a shockwave it traveled the world, announcing them. And when the dead started piling up and demands were made, he never doubted those who carried their message. They wanted this world for their own and either you joined them or you died, there were no other options.

Even then, Eric had been sure they'd expected the vampires to just fall in line, and now, having heard Buffy's tale, he believed it even more. But they weren't like the creatures she'd described - soulless and blood crazed, murderous monsters. The vampires here had shied away from their evil instead of flocking toward it. Sure, some went to them, but not many. Even those that embraced their darker sides and didn't mind slaughtering humans didn't like the idea of bowing to them, being their minions or slaves.

A war had broken out and vampires were almost wiped off the planet. In the end they had joined with magic users, who had also been targeted, to ban the Wolf, Ram and Hart from their world. It was still unclear if it had actually banned them completely or just removed them from that dimension for a time. If they wanted, could they come back? Especially now, eight hundred years later… Had the magic faded? Weakened?

And now Buffy had drawn their attention… Pitted him against them…

_She's not from here_, he reminded himself. _She didn't know_.

But true as that may be, it would be cold comfort if she brought war back among them. All they'd built, everything they'd gained here, would be lost. Any vampire under eight hundred years old wouldn't personally know the horror they faced, the surety that a horrible death awaited them. Even those that were made just after would've only seen the aftermath. They'd be unprepared for the reality of it, just as he and others like him had been the first time.

Sophie-Anne was old enough to remember. He chuckled darkly with the sudden realization of why she must've sent Buffy to Shreveport. That had been what he was missing - Buffy had told Sophie-Anne that she'd crossed the triumvirate. She'd sent her here to see they'd attack. He and his people were simply better fodder than her base in New Orleans. He couldn't blame her, he would've done the same thing in her position. Buffy was lucky she'd proved herself to be useful, otherwise Sophie-Anne probably just would've killed her outright in the hopes of avoiding a confrontation with the three. She still might…

Even as angry as he was with her, the thought of Sophie-Anne killing her sent a jolt through him.

"Pam."

She appeared in the door to his office in seconds. She'd already changed out of her black dress into a pink tracksuit, her hair pulled up with a pink ribbon.

"Yes?"

"Find out where Buffy is staying, make sure it's secure," he said, tapping his fingers on his knee while he thought. "And leave a message at the desk for her to return here tomorrow night."

"Why don't you just call her?" Pam asked blandly.

"Just do it," he snarled.

Instead of looking cowed, Pam just looked amused. It was usually a trait he liked about her, but right then he found it annoying. She gave him a dramatic bow that Charles would've been proud of and left him to his broo- contemplating.

What had Buffy doing fighting the Wolf, the Ram and the Hart anyway? And how could she describe it so casually? _Oh, the Hart stabbed me. _Completely blasé. It brought him back to the world she'd told him about, the one she was from. Demons and hell, vampires that possessed human hosts, hell on earth… It was a lot to take in. And he still had so many questions…

What had she meant when she said it was her "job" to fight vampires and the forces of darkness? Angel and Spike, the men in her living room, why had they been fighting the Wolf, the Ram and the Hart in the first place? Were they that different kind of vampire she'd told him about? He had sensed something off, but still vampiric about them… And if they were that soulless kind of demonic parasite, why was she working with them? Why did they have such ridiculous names? Why had she come to this dimension at all? Why had she stayed?

It seemed getting the answers he'd asked for had only raised more questions. And now she was so pissed off about the blood bond revelation, he might never get the answers he sought. Something tightened in him at that thought. Not the not getting answers part, but the thought of not seeing her again. What if she refused his invitation to return the next night? Surely he had more right to be angry than she? What were a few spied upon feelings compared to the threat of a bloody war? If he still wanted to see her, she couldn't be so angry as to stay away from him forever, could she?

He reached for the bond and felt the still bubbling anger on the other end, and realized that yes, she probably could stay away. Damn stubborn woman. At least with her ordered to stay in Shreveport, that meddling guard wasn't around to take advantage of their falling out. He got up from his chair in a swift movement, the thought of Rasul making him need to move. He went about setting his desk to rights, but it didn't keep the questions and suspicions at bay. When she'd thought of Rasul earlier that night, he hadn't been able to discern exactly what had gone on between them, but he knew he wouldn't like it. Confusion, embarrassment, fear - they all poured out of her when he'd mentioned the other vampire.

The corner of his desk snapped off in his hand.

He didn't understand any of this. He was so angry with her, furious even, but still worried about her welfare, still violently jealous at the thought of another touching her. She was trouble and would most likely be the end of him, whether by Sophie-Anne or the Wolf, the Ram and the Hart, but still he couldn't seem to turn away. Self-preservation was on the top of Eric's list of importance, so to have it suddenly slide to second place was unnerving.

He dropped back into his chair, suddenly feeling exhausted. It seemed like he felt like that a lot since he'd met Buffy…

"There's a problem," Pam said, drawing his attention back to the doorway. She stood there stiffly, looking uneasy. "I got the information on Buffy's hotel and rental car from Sophie-Anne's people. She hasn't returned to the hotel, and when I checked the lot, I found her car still parked out there."

The desk went flying into the wall again.

* * *

><p>A bright square of sunlight laying directly on her face combined with the faint smell of coffee was what woke Buffy the next morning. She soundlessly snarled at the offending brightness and turned on her side to get away from it, but it was pointless, the damage was done and she was awake now. Sleep slitted eyes opened reluctantly and she took in the unfamiliar surroundings blankly for a moment before remembering she was at Sookie's. The room was bright and cheery, very girly. It reminded Buffy a lot of her own room back in Sunnydale minus all the personal teenage girl touches. She was sure those things had been here before though - posters and stuffed animals and silly frilly things - something about the room felt lived in and homey, just stripped down to the usual guest room functionality recently.<p>

She sat up and rubbed her eyes, then stared down at the quilt on the bed while she tried to wake up enough to actually move around. She fingered the edge of the material, it looked handmade. Her hand ran softly over the bright little squares while her foggy mind briefly contemplated the amount of work that would go into something like that. She shook her head, wondering why she felt so out of it, and glanced at the clock. It was only nine. By the time her and Sookie had gotten back to the house after dropping Charles off with Sookie's boss, it had been almost three. Six hours of sleep wasn't bad though. Hell, that was doing good for her. So why did she still feel so wrung out? The answer came immediately.

Eric.

She flopped back down on the bed and stared at the ceiling, hands flung out and dangling off the sides of the twin bed. The man was exhausting. Goes traipsing around in her head like he owns the place and then has the nerve to get mad at _her_. Okay, so maybe she should've told him what had happened - he'd been there after all, so she guessed he had the right to know. But couldn't he see why she'd felt it was important to keep it quiet? It wasn't like they'd just went off to Disneyland or something. She took him to a whole different freaking dimension. He had to know that if word got out she could do that it would equal all kinds of badness, right? And what exactly had Wolfram and Hart been up to here that had both him and Sophie-Anne acting all wiggy? Maybe Sookie would know…

Throwing back the covers and pulling herself upright, Buffy dug through her suitcases and picked out some fresh clothes, then headed for the bathroom to freshen up. Ten minutes later, she followed the smell of coffee into the kitchen and found Sookie sitting at the table with a cup and a newspaper. Seeing her in the doorway, Sookie lowered the paper and gave her a smile edged with apology. She'd been in a pretty foul mood last night after they'd left her bosses place, Buffy guessed that was what the face was about.

Buffy had waited in the car while Sookie took Charles in to talk to her boss, not feeling up for meeting any new people at that moment. Between the fight with Eric and what Sookie had told her about shifters being shot, she wasn't really up for being polite and sociable. When Sookie had come back, fuming and silent, Buffy had been even more glad she'd skipped out of the meeting.

"Come on in and sit down, I'll get you a cup of coffee," Sookie said, standing. "How do you take it?"

"Lots of sugar, a little cream," Buffy answered as she slid into the opposite chair from where Sookie had been. The kitchen was roomy and a little mismatched with appliances from different eras - newer cabinets, older countertops and tile that fell somewhere in the middle. It gave the feeling of somewhere lived in. A place where things were replaced when needed, not before - waste not, want not. Buffy liked it.

"Sorry about last night, Sam just really made me mad…" Sookie said, setting the cup down in front of Buffy and taking her seat again.

"Don't worry about it, I wasn't really up for talking anyway." She paused to sip at her coffee. Hot and sweet, it made her hum in happiness. "This is a great house."

"Thanks, my family built it way back when."

"It's pretty big, you live here alone?"

"Yeah, my parents died when I was eight and me and my brother came here to live with my grandmother. He moved into my parents old house a while back and my gran died last year, so it's just me now."

"Crap, I'm sorry," Buffy said, feeling like an ass for inadvertently bringing up painful memories.

But Sookie just smiled and shook her head. "It's fine. I feel lucky to have what I've got, I try not to dwell on what I don't."

A good philosophy to have, for sure. One Buffy tried to adhere to herself, although it looked like Sookie had been more successful with that…

"Speaking of things you're lucky to have, how are things with Alcide?" Buffy asked, giving an eyebrow waggle as she took another sip of her coffee.

Sookie gave the borderline goofy grin of the smitten. "Pretty good. We started seeing each other seriously a couple weeks after Jackson. Things are a little tense right now because of me not wanting him up here while all this shooting stuff is going on, but things were going real good before that."

"No more trouble from his ex?"

"Debbie?" Sookie asked, surprised. "No, not at all. She got married and moved out to California."

Buffy gave a mental sigh of relief. She'd hoped she'd scared the other woman enough to not mess with Sookie anymore, but she hadn't been sure. It was good to hear at least one thing had gone right.

"What about Bill? You see much of him anymore?"

Sookie's face fell a little. "No, he's been traveling around doing work for the queen. I haven't seen him in a while."

Buffy wanted to say "good riddance", but held her tongue. She didn't want to ruin the morning with painful talk of exes.

"So, uh, what were you doing at Fangtasia?" Sookie asked hesitantly, apparently not sharing Buffy's desire for an angst free breakfast table.

Buffy sighed and took another sip while she turned her gaze out the kitchen window. The bright ray of sunshine that had woken her had disappeared, replaced by low hanging grey clouds that promised rain sooner rather than later. The sun had to wait to disappear until after it woke her up though, didn't it? Figures.

"I got hurt last week, so I was supposed to be hanging out in Shreveport with Eric doing the whole rest and relaxation thing for a while. Didn't quite turn out to be so relaxing though…"

"You two had a fight?"

"Hmm."

"Do you wanna talk about it?"

"Not really," Buffy said, getting up and pouring more coffee in her cup. She was about to take a sip when she spun around to face Sookie again, slamming her cup down on the counter and sending it sloshing over the sides. "He was reading my emotions and he didn't even tell me!"

"He was-"

"I mean, when I started feeling what he was feeling, I told him. But this whole time he could read me too, and didn't say one word! You don't do that, you just don't go digging around in people's private feelings!"

"Well, since I kind of dig around in other people's heads all the time without them knowing, I don't know that I can really judge," Sookie said stiffly.

"Oh yeah," Buffy said, deflating a little. "But you understand the principle. You wouldn't want someone knowing your feelings all the time would you? Besides, it's not like you can help it."

"Well, if you two share a blood bond, which I'm guessing is what's going on, then he can't help it either. Is it that he knew what you were feeling that bothers you or are your really mad because it was _Eric_ who was in your head?"

Buffy turned back toward the window, crossing her arms and watching as the first few drops of rain hit the ground outside. They echoed above her on the tin roof.

"He used what he felt from me to manipulate me. I slept with him, I trusted him, and he was just playing some game the whole time."

"Are you sure that's what he was doing?"

Was she sure? He could've felt what she felt for him and just been bouncing it back at her. He could've realized what she liked about him and amplified it. He could've- She sighed. "Could have" being the operative words in those thoughts. That was far from definite. And she'd liked him, been attracted to him, well before the blood bond kicked in, so he couldn't have been using it against her then. It didn't mean that he wasn't using her, but it did mean he might deserve a little less accusation than she was throwing around.

"…no," she admitted quietly, her answer almost drowned out by the quickening rain. "But why else would he keep it secret?"

"Why do any of us keep secrets?" Sookie asked, coming up beside her to lean against the counter.

Buffy flushed and she hunched in on herself a little. Why indeed…

"Maybe you should just apologize," Sookie suggested after a moment of silence.

"Why should _I_ apologize? He was the one that was wrong," she said with a scowl, but her words weren't as strong as she would've liked them to be.

Sookie gave a little chuckle and went to the sink to rinse out her cup, shaking her head.

"You two are too much alike, that's the problem."

"I'm nothing like that giant, secret keeping asshat," Buffy huffed, her words muffled by the sudden pickup in the rain.

"If you say so," Sookie said with a shrug, sounding way too damn amused for Buffy's liking. "Listen, I have to be at work at eleven. You're welcome to hang out here if you want, or you can come with me and borrow my ca- uhh, actually, maybe you could get someone to drive your car up here…"

Buffy's mood soured further with Sookie's obvious attempt at backpedaling. She wasn't _that_ bad of a driver. But if Sookie didn't feel comfortable letting her drive her car, fine. She had non-drivey plans for the day anyway.

"Nah, I think I'll just come with you if that's okay," she said. "I'd like to see where your boss got shot, get a feeling for the people around here, ya know?"

Sookie nodded, looking relieved, and turned back toward the bedrooms, probably to get dressed and ready for work.

"Hey, one more thing," Buffy called out, following her into the hall so she wouldn't have to yell over the rain pounding on the tin roof. "Have you ever heard of Wolfram and Hart?"

Sookie thought about it a second and shook her head. "Nope, don't think so. Should I have?"

"No, I was just wondering."

She watched Sookie disappear back into her room then made her way out to the front porch, taking a seat in an old rocker with the remainder of her coffee while she watched the rain come down. She was still angry, still sure she had a right to be, and still sure she was the more wronged of the two parties. But now there was a nagging feeling of doubt. Maybe there was more to it than just what _she_ was feeling…

Hadn't she decided in his office that she had been unfair not to trust him earlier? That he'd never given her reason not to? But that had also been before she found out he'd been keeping the truth of the bond a secret…

Then there was the whole deal with her bizarro reaction to his blood. She was still pissed about him keeping that to himself too. And more than that, she was pissed that he just blew it off like it was completely unimportant. How could he think that the fact she went into psycho-mode when exposed to vamp blood was not need-to-know info?

She curled her legs up to her chest as she watched the rain come down, wondering when things in this new dimension had gotten so complicated.

And wondering if it was worth it…

* * *

><p>Pushing the hood back on her borrowed raincoat, Buffy let her eyes adjust to the dim interior of Merlotte's. Sookie had parked in the back and led her in through the employee entrance, which left them standing in a narrow hall with a swinging door that probably went out into the bar on one end and a storeroom, bathrooms, an office and another swinging door into a kitchen area in between. Pretty standard stuff.<p>

"You sure you just want to hang out here? I don't get off until five…"

"I'll be fine," Buffy assured her. "I never had trouble finding stuff to get into."

Buffy could swear she mumbled, "That's what I'm afraid of" as she took their coats into the office.

Deciding to ignore that, she stuck her head into the bathroom far enough to take a peek at her hair and make sure she didn't have frizzy rain curlies going on while she waited for Sookie. Assured that her hair was behaving itself, she pulled back out to meet Sookie in the hall as the other girl tied her apron around her waist.

"Come on, I'll introduce you," she said, leading the way to the swinging door on the end and tightening her ponytail.

Merlotte's was pretty quaint for a bar. A real hometown kinda place. Small without being dark and dingy, worn without looking shabby, not loud and obnoxious but not silent and depressing either. Besides the lingering scent of cigarette smoke and beer, it wasn't a bad place at all. She could definitely see why the locals would want to hang out there.

She met the cook first, a woman called Sweetie that seemed a little edgy for her name. She gave off a hint of "otherness" that made Buffy wonder if maybe she was a shifter herself, which would definitely explain the edginess given the shootings lately. The bartender, Terry, looked a little unwell, but obeying Sookie's warning glance, Buffy didn't mention anything, just gave him a bright smile and said it was nice to meet him. Arlene, another waitress, seemed nice enough, even if her big red hair and too tight clothes made Buffy question her taste. Next, she pointed out the Sherriff, Bud Dearborn, who was laughing with five others in Arlene's section, but didn't offer to introduce her. Buffy didn't mind - her and the lawly types weren't so mixy.

Sookie set her up with a glass of sweet tea, a salad, a burger and some fries, then left her to her own devices as a few more people started straggling in for the lunch hour. As she worked through her food, she people watched. Unfortunately, patience wasn't one of her strong suits and after about five minutes she was starting to feel discouraged. They just seemed so… _normal_, like any other town without a crazy sniper on the loose. Then again, Sunnydale had seemed normal at first glance too…

She wasn't sure what she'd expected. Maybe someone to come in toting a rifle or wearing a shirt saying "Down with Shifters"? She should know better by now. Honestly, she wasn't sure she'd be able to help at all. But when Sookie had told her about the Heather Kinman girl, all she could picture was Dawn. Laughing, drinking a milkshake with friends, then getting shot down because she was something different. If there was even a chance she could stop anyone else from dying, she had to try. So she went back to watching people, trying not to look like a suspicious freak while she stared.

She was about halfway through her burger when the seat next to her pulled out and a handsome blond guy with a big smile sat down next to her. She resisted the urge to roll her eyes, knowing where this was headed at first glance.

"Hey there, haven't seen you around here before. I'm Jason," he said, offering her his hand. She shook it and forced herself to smile back. There was a definite tingle of strange energy coming from Jason - like what she'd sensed from Sweetie but stronger.

"Buffy," she said, reminding herself to be polite. It'd be harder to question the locals if she was labeled an ice queen, after all.

"Buffy, cool name," the guy grinned, gaining a few points in his favor. "This here's Hoyt."

He gestured off to the side, where a big guy in jeans and a flannel shirt was standing looking a little uncomfortable, but resigned. The reluctant wingman had been through this before. Many times, she'd bet. She gave him a smile that was a little warmer than the one she'd given Jason.

"Hey there Hoyt, why don't you sit down," waving at the other open chair. "You're too tall, I'll get a crick in my neck if I have to keep staring up at you like that."

Hoyt blushed a little and took a seat, flashing a shy smile while Jason's own slipped a few notches.

"So Buffy," he said, drawing her attention back to him and leaning a little closer to her. "You new in town?"

"I'm just here visiting a friend for a few days," she answered, resisting the urge to lean back.

"Oh yeah? Who?"

"Me," Sookie said, appearing behind Hoyt.

After a surprised beat of silence, he stood and wrapped an arm around Sookie's shoulders. "Sook, sister of mine, why didn't you tell me you had such a beautiful friend that needed showing around town? I'd be glad to take her out while you're working."

Sister? She looked a little closer and yep, definitely a family resemblance there. Physically anyway. She got the feeling the similarity didn't extend to personality. And what was he? Sookie hadn't mentioned having anyone less than human in her family. Not that it was something that could really just be thrown into everyday conversation…

"I'm working the day shift, Jason," Sookie said, stepping out from under his arm to refill Buffy's tea. "That's the same time you work."

Jason deflated a little and Buffy could almost see the wheels turning in his head as he sat back down next to her, his chair sliding a little closer, probably not on accident. Sookie took their orders and shot Buffy an apologetic glance before hurrying over to another table. Jason spent the next few minutes telling her about the town, which there didn't seem to be much to if she was to go by his word, but focused mostly on describing the land around his house, the pond and the wildlife, then, with a kind of subtlety that wasn't, he invited her over for the night - for a nature watch, of course. Right.

She raised a brow at his boldness and saw that he absolutely expected her to say yes. She couldn't help but smile a little at his confidence. It was genuine, the kind that came from a guy that simple wasn't told no by women, but somehow he kept from being cocky. Too bad for him Buffy wasn't impressed. Sure, he was good looking and had that boyish charm thing going for him, but after having met Eric, it just seemed a little watered down. Eric was everything Jason was times a hundred with a bucket load of dark sex appeal added on top that the Stackhouse sibling just lacked.

"Sorry, it sounds like you've got a nice place, but I'm just not interested - not in nature watching or random outdoor sex with my friend's brother."

She barely kept from laughing at the look on his face. The words had come out of her mouth, but it was like he couldn't understand them. She gave him a pat on the shoulder as she stood up, feeling a little like she'd just told him B was actually A and everything he'd known in the world was wrong.

"See ya around. Nice meeting you, Hoyt," she said to the other man, who was looking about as confused as Jason.

She left them at the table and walked up to the bar, where Sookie was cutting up lemons and giving the bartender a wide berth. Buffy cast a suspicious eye at him, trying to decide if he could be the shooter. Maybe he was mentally ill or something? She'd have to ask Sookie about it later.

"What'd you do to them?" Sookie asked, nodding toward the table where the two were still sitting quietly.

"Turned your brother down. I get the feeling it's not something he's used to."

"Not and have them really mean it," Sookie said with a grin. "After he recovers, he'll probably just be more determined."

"Great," Buffy rolled her eyes then sobered. "What's he turn into?"

Sookie gave her a hard look, and when she spoke her words were stiff and stilted. "He's a werepanther. Was bitten not to long ago. Changed for the first time just a few nights ago."

Buffy wasn't sure if she'd given the impression she didn't want to go out with him because she sensed he got furry, or maybe Sookie was just expecting some kind of judgment or disgust. What ever it was, the protectiveness was practically vibrating off of her, daring Buffy to say something derogatory.

"Doesn't seem to be slowing his game down much, does it," Buffy said flippantly, hoping to lighten the mood and assure her she meant no harm.

It worked and Sookie relaxed a little. "Not much slows Jason down when it comes to women."

Buffy shook her head and pushed away from the counter.

"I'm going out back to look around, 'kay?"

"You think you'll find anything?" Sookie asked, casting a doubtful look at the windows where you could see the rain was still pouring down outside.

"Probably not," Buffy said. "But I'm gonna look anyway."

Fifteen minutes later Buffy was shivering slightly and still empty handed. She was also soaked from the knees down, where her borrowed raincoat left her jeans exposed. The woods were thick around the bar, making the job of hiding easy on the shooter. But Buffy couldn't help but wonder about the accuracy of the shot, or the lack there of, actually. The distance from where Sookie said Sam had gotten shot and the tree line wasn't that far for someone experienced with a gun. But Sam had only been hit in the leg… So either the shooter wasn't a great shot or they didn't mean to kill him.

Both answers seemed off to Buffy. The werefox girl had been killed by her bullet, and the werepanther had taken one in the chest. It was a pretty sure bet that both of them had an enhanced sense of smell, so the shooter would probably have to be pretty far back to make sure they didn't smell the gun. One shot, from a distance, into a vital area. Seemed pretty skilled to her. So how had Sam gotten off so lucky? It just didn't add up.

Deciding to talk to the man himself, Buffy walked toward the little trailer by the employee parking lot that Sookie had told her was his. It was clean and neat with a little row of trimmed hedges in front that made Buffy smile. She knocked on the door and cringed as she heard some creative cursing from inside as something got knocked over.

A tingle of energy came from inside, prodding her slayer senses as it moved closer and closer, stronger than what she'd felt from Jason or Sweetie. Seconds later the door opened revealing a wiry guy with thick reddish blond curly hair, very blue eyes and a leg in a cast.

"Hi," she said, giving a wet wave. "I'm Buffy, Sookie's friend. Sorry I made you get up…"

Sam blinked at her for a second then seemed to shake himself as he kind of hop-shuffled back from the door.

"Come on in, you're getting soaked out there."

Buffy gratefully stepped out of the rain, trying to make sure her drippy self stayed on the mat inside the door.

"Buffy, you said? I'm Sam," he offered his free hand, the other pulling a crutch from next to the door for him to lean on.

She shook it, then gave an apologetic grimace as her sleeve dripped water all over his hand.

He chuckled a little and wiped his hand across his t-shirt. He had a nice laugh, and his eyes did that crinkly thing, making Buffy wonder why Sookie hadn't scooped him up. She'd said they'd worked together for years, so how had she overlooked Boss Hottie?

"Let me get you a towel," he said, turning awkwardly and shuffling back towards a hallway.

"Oh, no, don't worry about that. It's bad enough I made you get up, you don't need to be wandering around playing host."

"It's fine," he said, shooting her a smile over his shoulder and almost losing his balance with the effort. "I was about to go crazy sitting around in here anyway. Think of it as saving my sanity."

Buffy watched him dig around in a little closet in the hall and shrugged to herself. A towel would actually be great, so if he insisted on hopping around, who was she to argue? Shrugging out of the still dripping coat, she hung it on a coat rack by the door, making sure that it dripped on the linoleum and not the carpet. She also made a mental note to use that towel to clean up that mess before she left, she doubted Sam was up to crawling around on the floor to mop up puddles.

Sam had the towel and was moving back toward her at a little faster pace by the time she was done making sure her coat wasn't soaking his carpet. She slipped off her waterlogged boots and took the towel from him gratefully, drying her hands and face firs, then trying to soak up some of water in her jeans, but that was pretty much a lost cause. Nothing but some time in a dryer would help them.

"Come on in and have a seat. You want anything to drink?"

Buffy followed him into the living room, which was right in front of the door, so they didn't have far to go, and settled the towel on a puffy armchair to keep from getting it wet when she sat down. The room was a lot like the bar, minus the beer and cigarette smell - comfortable and worn, but clean and well kept.

"No thanks," she answered, then waved at the couch. "What you _can_ do is sit down. Sookie would have my head and yours if she knew you were up and about like that."

After a minute of awkward shuffling, Sam got himself settled on the couch across from her and gave a rueful smile. "I don't think Sookie's much worried about me right now."

Remembering the fight from the night before, Buffy tossed Sookie's advice to her out there. "Just apologize."

"I will be. I'm just waiting for her to get off work. I was asleep when she came in…"

Wow, that was it? No arguments? No "I was right, she was wrong"? Was it really that easy?

"So, you're a friend of Sookie's?" Sam asked, pulling her out of her thoughts. "Sorry, she's never mentioned you before…"

"Well, we haven't known each other very long. I ran into Sookie in Shreveport last night and she told me about what had been going on here. I thought I might be able to help. I'm kind of a… problem solver, I guess."

Sam looked her up and down, his thoughts clear to her even without Sookie's ability to read minds. She just shrugged at his disbelieving look. She was used to being underestimated. But even without her saying anything, or maybe _because_ she didn't say anything, when Sam met her gaze again, some of that skepticism slipped away.

"Alright," he said slowly. "I don't know what I can tell you that I haven't told the police, but I'll answer any questions you have."

Buffy gave a sunny grin, knowing it would throw him off balance. She found it made it easier to get unguarded answers when they didn't know what to think of her.

"Great! So, did you know the other two that got shot?"

Sam shrugged, "Sure, it's a small town, everyone kind of knows everyone else. Or at least knows _of _them. Heather worked in the office supply store, so I saw her whenever I was running low on pens or printer ink, stuff like that. Calvin I see here and there, but he and his family pretty much keep to themselves."

"So you didn't know either of them personally? Share any hobbies? Hang out?"

Sam shook his head.

"What about the night of the shooting? Notice anything off? Smell anything?"

Sam went very still. "That's an odd question."

"Not really. Not when someone knows that you have a better sense of smell than most."

"Sookie told you?" He asked, shoulders dropping a little now that it was obvious she knew his secret.

"She did, but I would've been able to tell anyway."

"I guess she wouldn't have said anything is she didn't trust you…"

"She knows I usually work with vamps. My weird-o-meter is a little broader than most."

She said it jokingly, but instead of putting him at ease, Sam seemed to withdraw a little with that comment, an odd look of distaste flickering across his face.

"Back to your question," he said. "No, I didn't smell anything off. But the trees are a little ways from parking area and there wasn't any wind that night, so that's not really surprising."

"Do a lot of people know what you are?"

Sam seemed taken aback by the question, but paused and gave it serious thought. "No, not really. I mean, other shifters can tell, vampires can to. And Sookie. But that's it."

"So you're saying that besides Sookie, not one plain old human in town knows what you are?"

"No, why-" He stopped suddenly, the path she was following suddenly clear to him. "You think it's another shifter…"

He sounded so horrified that she almost wanted to tell him no, even though it'd be a lie. In the end, she settled on a shrug. "I don't know, but it seems likely given that we know Sookie wouldn't be shooting anyone and that vamps aren't big on guns."

"It's also not impossible that vampires _aren't_ using guns," he said, that same distasteful look he'd had when she said she usually worked with vamps coming back. "They could be doing it just because it doesn't seem like something they'd do. Throw us off track."

"Could be," Buffy agreed easily. "Or maybe it's just easier to blame them."

"And maybe you just want to defend them," he said, eyes narrowing. "Seems a little biased for someone that's supposed to be investigating this."

Buffy wanted to tell him she'd killed more vampires than he'd probably ever even see in his lifetime, that she had no problem with a vampire being the culprit. But that bit of bragging might get her into trouble down the road, so she sucked it back with some effort.

"I just want to help. If it's a vampire, or a shifter, or a just a crazy guy with a chip on his shoulder, it makes no difference to me except in helping me find the sonofabitch."

Sam studied her for a moment and she stared back, refusing to back down. Finally he gave a little nod, maybe not completely believing her, but at least willing to give her the benefit of the doubt. Satisfied that he'd finished his little tantrum, she leaned back in her chair and asked the question that had been prodding at her.

"How well do you know Jason Stackhouse?"

Emotions ran over Sam's face almost too quickly to identify - confusion at what he probably thought was a random turn in the conversation, shock and disbelief as it occurred to him where she was going with this, then he settled on anger, his face pale and lips thin.

"Jason didn't do this."

"You seem sure."

"I am."

"Sookie said he was just bitten recently. Turned for the first time just the other night. Seems like a reason to be a little sour toward the shifter community. I know I would be."

"Maybe you would, but not Jason. He's not like that. Sure, he's got a temper on him, but he doesn't hold a grudge. Besides, Sookie said he was dealing with it real well. Even liked it a little."

"That's good to hear," Buffy said with a smile, hoping it looked more genuine than it felt. "Well, I think I've bothered you enough, I'll get out of your hair."

He leaned forward and grabbed her wrist as she stood up. She looked at it calmly then pulled his hand off of her using a little more force than necessary. His eyes widened a little bit, but he went on, determined.

"It's not Jason," he said. "I'll admit it could be a shifter, but I'm telling you, it's not Jason. If you think it is, then you'll be wasting your time trying to prove it while the real shooter could be out there getting ready to pick off someone else."

Buffy met his intense blue gaze and gave a nod. Not because she one hundred percent believed it wasn't Jason, but Sam did and she acknowledged that. She really didn't think it was him either, and more than that, she didn't _want_ it to be him. But if she was going to get this guy before anyone else was hurt or worse, then she couldn't go by hunches or wishes, she needed to puzzle this out, and so far Jason was the best fit for suspect number one.

Outside the rain was still coming down, the soft hiss of it comforting after the tense conversation. She was no closer to finding answers now than she'd been hours ago. Not about the shooter and not about Eric. But she felt like she might be on the right path on both accounts…


	33. Chapter 33

**Chapter Thirty-Three**

The rain had stopped by the next morning, but the gray clouds stayed put leaving it chilly and gloomy. Good weather for a funeral, which turned out to be exactly what was on Sookie's agenda that day. Alcide had called last night when they'd gotten in, asking Sookie to go to a service for a friend of his, so Sookie had switched her shift at Merlotte's and was headed to Shreveport. Buffy, figuring this would be a good opportunity to get her car back, caught a ride with her.

The only problem with this great plan came when they reached Fangtasia and her car wasn't where she'd left it. In the parking space in its place was a little white placard.

"What the hell?" Buffy muttered, looking out the window.

She shot Sookie a questioning look, but she just shrugged, as clueless as Buffy was at what was going on. Giving an annoyed grunt, she opened her door and hopped out. It was cold and windier her than it had been in Bon Temps, making her huddle in her jacket as she strode toward the little white card. How the heck was it not blowing away? Crouching down next to it she saw that it was folded in half with each end taped to the asphalt so that it kept its tented shape. Careful not to rip it, she pulled the tape up from the ground and read what was written inside.

"_Call me if you want it back_", a phone number and Pam's signature.

Buffy stared at it a moment in annoyance before refolding it and sticking it in her back pocket, then got back in Sookie's warm car.

"She's holding my car hostage."

"Who?"

"Pam."

"Not Eric?"

Good point… Why was Pam kidnapping her car so she could talk to her and not Eric. Maybe because he didn't want to talk to her? Her stomach rolled itself in a knot at the thought. She'd been thinking he'd come around, realize he was wrong and apologize, maybe even with a little begging for forgiveness thrown in. But he didn't want to talk to her at all…

Something of her thoughts must've shown on her face because Sookie moved on quickly. "So that means you can't get your car until after sunset."

She looked at the car's clock. 11:52. Great.

"Well, I guess you're coming with me," Sookie said, putting the car in drive.

Buffy glanced down at her jeans, white sweater and camel colored coat - she looked okay, but she definitely wasn't dressed for a funeral.

"I'll pass. Just drop me somewhere with coffee and I'll get a cab back to Bon Temps."

"That's a long way," Sookie said, glancing at her with raised eyebrows. "It'll cost you a fortune."

"No offense, but I think it's worth the cost not to have to go to a funeral," Buffy said with a shrug. "It's my own fault for leaving the car here in the first place."

"You came to help me out," Sookie said, sounding like she felt guilty. "So really, it's my fault. I can call Alcide, tell him I can't-"

"Chill, it's a taxi ride, not a death sentence," Buffy laughed. "Seriously Sookie, it's fine. Look, there's a little coffee house right up here. Just drop me off and I'll be fine. I'm a big girl, after all."

Sookie still didn't like it, but she finally agreed and left her, looking back twice as she drove off, like a mom leaving her kid on their first day of kindergarten. Shaking her head, she went inside and got the number for a taxi from the girl at the counter, then ordered a big fluffy coffee with whipped cream and chocolate and caramel drizzled all over it. Yum…

After calling for a taxi (and making sure they'd actually take her all the way out to the boonies), she called Pam, who obviously didn't answer because she was busy sleeping the sleep of the dead. So she left a message saying she wanted her damn car back and she could drop it off at Sookie's house or Merlotte's - she didn't offer to come back down and pick it up. After she hung up, she hesitated, then pulled up Rasul's number. He was asleep too, but maybe she should call anyway, leave a message saying... hell, she didn't know what to say. She felt bad about the way things had gone between them before she left. The look on his face, that weary acceptance in his voice, it wouldn't leave her alone. But even though things with Eric had gone south, she still couldn't see herself giving into Rasul's advances. Maybe it was because things were too fresh, maybe after some time…

The taxi arrived and she tucked her phone away without calling.

* * *

><p>Back in town, she spent the majority of the dreary day wandering around Bon Temps. She was less than impressed. She'd liked Sookie's place and the bar, but the rest of the town was just flat out boring. Then again, nothing was great when it was cold and gloomy out. Maybe things were different in the summer, more full of life or something. But even then, it wasn't somewhere Buffy thought she could live. She wanted the newest trends, a great selection of shoes, a variety of people from all walks of life. Bon Temps didn't offer any of that. Besides, the everyone knowing your business thing was crazy. She couldn't count how many time someone had come up and asked who she was (who <em>does<em> that? Apparently people in a small town, that's who) and then proceeded to recite the Stackhouse family history when they heard she was friends with Sookie. Not to mention the disbelieving looks she got from some of the people when she said that, like it was a shock Sookie had friends. It made her dislike the town even more.

The place where the panther-guy had been shot was way out in the middle of nowhere, so she'd have to wait to get her car back if she wanted to see that spot. But the Sonic was right there in town, so she went there to grab a bite to eat and survey the area. From what she could see as she sucked at her milkshake, the shot had come from across the street where two empty businesses sat with a narrow space between them. The shooter could've actually been in one of the buildings, but it seemed more likely that they'd been in that little walkway - quicker escape that way.

Taking her milkshake with her, she took a little fieldtrip across the street to check out the buildings and the alleyway. The windows of the buildings were covered in grime, but from what she could see, it didn't look like anyone had been in there for a very, very long time. The alley on the other hand had some trampled weeds that could've been nothing or they could've been from the shooter. Then again, they could've been from cops that had followed the same line of thought Buffy had and came to check this little alley for clues. She wondered if a town like this had the budget for all that fancy crime scene crap they had on TV, if they'd been able work out the trajectory of the bullet and all that magical forensics stuff.

She was squatted down, taking a closer look at the ground when she noticed someone moving toward her from the street. Glancing up, she saw a square-ish man striding toward her in that no-nonsense way of someone that's in a position of authority, or at least thinks they are. She stood up slowly and waited for him to come to her, adopting an expression of polite curiosity.

"Can I help you?" She asked as he stopped a few feet from her.

"I was about to ask you the same thing," he said with a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Can I ask what you're doing over here?"

"Only if I can ask who you are."

He pulled out his wallet, flashing a badge. "Detective Bellefleur," he said, all traces of casual friendliness gone. "And you are?"

"Daisy Smithington," Buffy said, giving the name on her most recent fake ID. Who ever was responsible for coming up with names was definitly screwing with her.

"You new in town Miss Smithington?"

"I just got in the night before last. I'm a friend of Sookie Stackhouse."

A look very close to distaste flickered across his face, concreting Buffy's dislike of him.

"I don't see Sookie anywhere around here," he said, looking around in exaggeration.

"She's in Shreveport today, so I thought I'd check out the town."

"In Shreveport doing what?"

"I didn't realize it was police business to track people visiting out of town," Buffy said with a placid shrug. "But she's at a funeral with her boyfriend."

The detective's face had turned a little red at her mild chastising of his nosiness. "And what exactly are you doing in this alley? I think you've avoided the question for long enough."

Just as she was opening her mouth to lie like a rug, a black truck with obnoxiously bright pink and aqua swirls on it pulled over at the curb next to them. The passenger side window rolled down to reveal Jason Stackhouse leaning over from the driver's seat to look out at them.

"Sorry I'm late," he said giving Buffy a smile. "You get bored waiting at the Sonic and walk over here? Hey, Andy, how's it going?"

Buffy barely kept her jaw from dropping. Guess Jason wasn't as dense as she'd thought. Then again, being a better liar than she'd imagined didn't exactly gain him any points in the "I'm not the murderer" category.

"Yep," she said, then held up her milkshake with a smile. "I thought I'd walk off some of these calories."

"You were waiting for Jason?" Andy asked, not bothering to hide that he thought that was complete bull.

"Uh-huh. I don't have a car right now, so I needed a ride."

"I told her I'd pick her up, but she had to agree to let me buy her a drink at Merlotte's tonight," Jason said, giving Andy what was supposed to a guy-to-guy conspiratorial wink.

Andy turned away from Jason, not bothering to reply. His eyes were narrowed as they landed back on Buffy.

"I'll be keeping an eye on you, Miss Smithington. I suggest you stay out of trouble," the detective said before walking away.

"'I'll be keeping an eye on you'," Buffy mocked in an unflattering impression when he was out of ear shot. She then made a face at his turned back, making Jason chuckle quietly.

She opened the door and hopped up in the cab, catching sight of something lacy and zebra stripped poking out from under the seat as she did. She didn't investigate further, but did make sure to touch as little of the door handle as possible when she pulled it closed. At least it was warm in there. Although that probably just helped whatever bacteria and germs there were in there grow faster. Like a whorehouse Petri dish… You'd probably be able to see it from space if it was lit with a black light. She wiped her hand discreetly on her pants.

She'd rather not go anywhere with Jason at all, but she figured Bellefleur might cruise around the are a time or two more. If he saw that she hadn't gone with Jason it would be an open invitation for more suspicion. She'd rather not butt heads with the local police any more than necessary, at least not while she was still nosing around.

Jason pulled out from the curb, back into the trickle of traffic creeping through this main drag of the town, and looked over at her briefly.

"So, what were you really doing out there?" He asked seriously, flicking on his blinker as they came up on a stop-light.

Buffy hesitated, then decided to go with the truth. Since he was still on the top of the suspect list, maybe she'd catch him off guard…

"I told Sookie I'd look into the shootings while I was in town," she said, watching his reaction closely.

His eyebrows rose as he glanced back over at her. He looked annoyingly skeptical, but not guilty or worried. "She really think you can help?"

"Yep, fixing weird and dangerous problems is kinda my gig," she said with a shrug.

"That's great," he said, smiling suddenly. "I don't know if she said anything to you, but some people think I might've done it. The sooner that bastard is caught, the sooner my name gets cleared."

He seemed genuine, but he'd also lied like a pro to the detective not five minutes ago. Then again, it was pretty selfish to be more worried about clearing his name than about more people getting killed. If he'd really wanted to draw her suspicion away he would've said something more along the lines of hoping she could save lives. But he could also know she'd think that was pushing it too far… Ugh, she was getting a headache…

"So you were at the Sonic trying to find clues from when Heather got shot?" He asked. She nodded. "Find anything?"

"No, but it's been a while since it happened. I just wanted to see the area, really."

"Have you seen where Calvin was shot yet?"

"No, I didn't have a car. Plus I didn't know exactly where it was."

He took a sharp left that had her sliding into the door, then putting on her seatbelt, again trying to touch as little as possible.

"I know where it was," he said, giving a wave to a passing truck. "I can show you."

Deciding that killer or not, this was a good offer, she agreed. It wasn't like he could get the drop on her, her reflexes were ten times his and she was already wary of him. Might as well kill two birds with one stone - keep testing him to see if there was a killer hiding in him somewhere and also see where the second shooting took place.

Jason put his arm along the back of the truck's seat and tugged on a strand of her hair. "After you get done looking around, we can go get that drink I promised."

She looked over at that smile that was half charming and half naughty and wondered if maybe she'd be killing more than two birds with that stone…

* * *

><p>The bar was busy when she arrived with Jason, getting more than a few curious glances. Jason seemed to be soaking up the attention like a sponge. No doubt loving the idea that everyone in the bar probably thought they were sleeping together since they'd come in together.<p>

She'd managed to keep from hurting Sookie's brother so far. But just barely. He was _relentless._ Even after she told him point blank that she wasn't going to sleep with him tonight, tomorrow night, or any other night, that she wasn't even the tiniest bit interested, his first response wasn't to leave her alone, it was to ask if she was a lesbian. She was tempted to say yes, just to get him off her back, but she also didn't want to give his ego that break so she said no. He'd just grinned and told her that as long as she was into guys then he had a chance. She gave up after that, settling on just ignoring him.

The scene of Calvin's shooting was a bust, but she'd pretty much expected that. There was some glass from where the shot went through his windshield and tire tracks where he'd swerved off the road when he'd been hit, but that was it. What was interesting was that the shot itself was pretty damn impressive. To get a head- on shot like the one that hit Calvin in the chest, the shooter would've had to be in the woods far down the road, waiting for the truck to come around a ninety degree bend. Where they must've been was a similar bend in the other direction. She was sure someone with a shifter's reflexes and sight would've been able to spot them immediately if they'd been closer, because they would've had to be in the middle of the road to make the shot if they were.

So that was two people, one a moving target (who knows, maybe both were, Heather could've been walking when shot), hit in vital areas, and from a pretty good distance. Then there was Sam, hit in the leg from a fraction of the distance. Weirdly enough, she was starting to wonder if Sam's shooter was the same as the other two. A more inexperienced accomplice maybe? Or someone completely unrelated with a grudge? She should talk to Sam again, see if there was anyone he'd pissed off recently.

Mind full of mysteries, she headed for the bar, hoping Jason would leave her to go sit with the friends he was waving to. Both Charles and Sookie were working that night, but both of them looked busy, so she just took her seat at the bar without saying anything to them, grimacing when Jason sat on the stool next to her with a grin.

"So, what do you want to drink?"

"Just a water," Buffy said scanning the room. She'd thought that the vampire tinglies she'd gotten when they first came in were just from Charles, but now that Charles was at her back she could tell there was another one in there somewhere in the main seating area.

"Come on, you have to get something better than a water," Jason wheedled. "How about a shot? Or one of those floofy girly drinks with an umbrella?"

"Just a water," Buffy repeated distractedly.

There. On the left side of the room was the vampire she'd been searching for. Dark haired and slim with a pale pointed face, he was sitting with a pretty dark haired woman who looked more than a little out of it. She was about to call Charles over and ask him about it when a new ping appeared on her Slayer radar.

She felt Jason stiffen beside her as she caught sight of source of that new ping. The girl was about Buffy's size, a few years younger and looked like she had attitude to spare. She was making a beeline right for them. Buffy didn't need to be a psychic to know she was looking at a pissed off ex. Jason probably left them laying around like dirty socks in his bedroom, completely oblivious until he tripped over one.

"What the hell is this?" The girl asked, stopping in front of them with her hands on her hips and what was very close to an actual snarl on her face.

"I'm having a drink with a friend," Jason said, his tone that mocking innocence aimed at pissing someone off. "Is there a problem with that?"

"A friend? Are you fucking serious right now? You expect me to believe you aren't banging GoldiSlut here?"

"Hey-" Buffy started, but was interrupted.

"What's it to you? You thought I was a murderer, remember?" Jason said bitterly.

"I didn't think that, it's just my family. You know how they are," she shot back hotly.

"Yeah, I do. And if you want to let them do your thinking for you, that's fine. But don't think I'm just going to sit around and mope about it. Plenty more fish in the sea."

Oh god, he did _not_ just use the fish in the sea line. But instead of rolling her eyes and laughing, maybe making a comment about how he'd need a bigger pole, like Buffy would've done, the girl just clenched her fists, the energy coming off of her spiking suddenly. Buffy tensed, not to defend Jason if the girl started to attack him, but so she could get the hell out of the way. But she didn't hit him, instead her eyes suddenly filled with tears and she spun away, rushing for the exit.

Buffy spun toward Jason and shoved him hard enough that he had to lurch to his feet if he didn't want to fall on his ass off his stool.

"What was that for?" He asked, looking pissed. It was actually nice to see something other than that panty-peeling smile on his face.

"Go after her."

"What, why? I'm fine right here with you."

"No, you're not. Because if you hit on my one more time, I'm going to have to hurt you. So go after the girl that actually wants you and fix things. Now."

Jason looked undecided for a moment then shook his head and gave her that smile she was really starting to hate again. "Yeah, okay. But you know where to find me if you change your mind." Then he was headed for the exit, much to the relief of Buffy's sanity.

"Looks like you have a fan," Charles said, making her spin back around on her stool. Okay, so maybe she just liked spin-y stools…

"I thought I was going to have to explain to Sookie why she wasn't ever going to have any nieces or nephews if I had to spend five more minutes with him."

Charles laughed and handed her a glass of water, showing that he'd hear their conversation. "Besides the unwanted suitor, how have you found the town?"

"Weird," Buffy said bluntly, taking a sip. "But that's probably just me. I'm kind of a city girl. What about you? How's the bartending going? Anybody get drunk and confess to shooing people?"

"That would make your job much easier, wouldn't it," he laughed. "But sadly no. I've found the bar crowd to be fairly tame…"

His words drifted off as his eyes focused intently on something behind Buffy. Turning to follow his gaze, she found Sookie at the table the vampire was at, her hand on the girls shoulder that was sitting there. Sensing trouble on the horizon, Buffy slid off her stool and headed toward them. Sookie started shaking the girl, who looked mostly unresponsive, and suddenly the vampire was up and in front of her, snarling and grabbing Sookie's arm. Buffy was there in the blink of an eye, jerking the vamp's hand off Sookie and stepping between them.

She looked up into beady brown eyes her hand slowly tightening on his wrist, watching as the fury on his face faded to something more wary and considering.

"There a problem here?" She asked, eyes never leaving his.

"He's hurting her, or he's letting someone else do it," Sookie said, sounding both defiant and a little scared behind her.

"It's not any of your concern," he sneered.

"I'm making it my concern," Buffy said back, giving his wrist another squeeze, darkly pleased when he flinched a little.

"Sookie's overreacting," the other girl spoke for the first time. "Everything's fine."

She sounded tired and slightly dazed. Sookie was right, something was definitely off here. But taking a quick glance around the bar, she realized that she'd be the one that looked like a trouble maker if she didn't ease up. The girl said she was fine, and that's all the many eyes on them would see. Looking back at the vampire, she saw that he realized that too. His smug little smile made her want to snap his arm. She released him before she gave into temptation.

But instead of backing away, he leaned forward slightly, his voice so low that she knew not even Sookie, who was almost touching her back, would be able to hear it.

"Every bit of embarrassment you just caused will be taken out on her tonight. Every scream, every drop of blood, every humiliation will be because of you. Aren't you glad you stuck your nose where it didn't belong?"

Then he laughed in her face.

Buffy's hands clenched at her sides until she could feel blood gathering under her nails, using the slight pain to keep her focus on not letting the Slayer part just take over. So she stood there and just watched him back away chuckling and pulling the girl to her feet. Watched, shaking with fury, as the left.

As they stepped out the door, another figure slipped in. Looking like she was going to a PTA meeting in her khaki pants, white button down shirt and soft blue cardigan, Pam watched the vamp leave then looked right at Buffy, eyebrow raised questioningly. Seeing her standing there, keys in hand, made Buffy smirk darkly. A plan of action settling in her brain and making her feel a little more calm. Turning to Sookie so quickly that the other girl stepped back, she forced herself not to look like a homicidal maniac as she asked quietly what Sookie knew about the couple that had just left.

Sookie hesitated for a second and then nodded toward the back hall. "Let's talk back there."

"Talk about what?" Pam asked appearing next to them and looking at Buffy with eyes bright with excitement. "You smell of violence and blood, whatever you're plotting, I want in."

Buffy didn't bother to argue where so many eyes were still on them, instead she just turned toward the back, Pam and Sookie following. Going through the narrow hall, she stopped by the store room and faced the other two.

"Okay, spill."

And Sookie did. What she knew wasn't really much, but it was enough. The girl's name was Tara, an old friend of Sookie's, and she'd somehow gotten involved with this Mickey guy, now she was trapped and according to Sookie, who'd read her mind, pretty much hopeless.

"Where's Tara live?" Buffy asked when Sookie was finished.

"Why?" Sookie asked warily.

"You want me to help your friend or not?" Buffy asked impatiently.

Sookie only hesitated another second before giving her directions. She didn't look like she was sure she was doing the right thing, but she looked determined anyway. She didn't stick around after she'd told Buffy where to find Tara and Mickey, just turned and went back through the swinging door, shoulders tight.

Pam stayed though, she was still looking at Buffy with that unholy glee that normally would be unnerving, but didn't bother Buffy in the least in her current mood.

"You're going to do something to him aren't you?" Pam asked, a wicked smile forming on her face.

"I'm going to kill him," she said bluntly.

"Oh good, I was hoping you'd say that," Pam said. She rattled the keys and headed for the door. "Let's go, I'm eager to see some bloodshed tonight."

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong> As a thank you to all you wonderful reviewers I've signed up for the Wishlist Challenge on LiveJournal. So if any of you are interested in seeing me write someing in particular, visit my profile page where I'll tell you a little about it and give you a link to sign up. :)


	34. Chapter 34

**Chapter Thirty-four**

Buffy was glad she'd let Pam drive. The road was dark and winding and so far three deer had jumped out at them. Pam avoided them with ease though, barely slowing from the sixty she was going. If Buffy hadn't been so pissed, she probably would've been clutching her seatbelt and praying. As it was, the last slalom type maneuver around a deer had left the top heavy SUV rocking a little, breaking through her anger and making her a little nervous.

"So, why'd you steal my car," Buffy asked, a little afraid to take Pam's attention from the road, but too curious to keep it in.

"Eric ordered me to find you," she said. "I thought if I hid your car, you might come to me instead. Much less work that way."

Buffy's stomach dropped. "So he knows I'm here?"

"No. He told me to find you and I did. He didn't say anything about telling him where you were," Pam answered with a smirk.

"So you're not going to tell him?" Buffy asked, eyebrows raised.

"Eventually. He'll most likely ask if I found you when I go back to Fangtasia tonight. I'll have to tell him then."

"What's he even care, anyway?" Buffy asked crossing her arms and looking out the window. Then, realizing she looked about twelve, forced her arms back town into her lap.

"Maybe he wants to yell at you more," Pam said with a shrug as Buffy's mouth dropped open in outrage. "Or maybe he's worried. You'll have to ask him."

Buffy was quiet for a moment after that. Maybe he was worried? Part of her wanted to scoff, but part of her was hopeful, too.

"Hey, Pam," Buffy said suddenly. "What do you know about Wolfram and Hart?"

She half expected her to get all weird like Eric and Sophie-Anne, but Pam just shrugged. Then she dropped the bomb.

"Eric didn't turn me until after the war with them, so not much."

"W-war?" Buffy squeaked.

Pam glanced over at her and nodded. "The war with the Wolf, the Ram and the Hart was about eight hundred years ago. I think that's part of why he turned me, to help repopulate the vampire race after it was almost wiped out. Well, that and he wanted to screw me for a few centuries…"

"War- repopulate the- wait, you and Eric are sleeping together?"

The burn of jealousy was immediate and fierce. She took a deep breath and tried to rein it in, reminding herself that she was transmitting her feelings to Eric wherever he was.

"Not for a very, very long time," Pam laughed, enjoying Buffy's torment apparently. "But we were in the beginning. You didn't think he made me because he wanted a younger sister, did you?"

"Well, I- I didn't- I don't," Buffy stuttered, her face growing hot. Great, jealously and embarrassment were blasting from her end of the bond. And why the hell hadn't she been getting anything from him lately? No remorse, or sad feelings or anything. Bastard. She took a deep breath and steadied herself. One question at a time. "But you're not sleeping together now."

"No, Buffy, we're not sleeping together now," Pam said as if speaking to a small, slow child. She was still smiling though.

"Okay, I want to know more about this war," Buffy said, focusing on the biggest question mark.

"Not much to tell," Pam said, turning into a residential neighborhood. "The Wolf, the Ram and the Hart came to this world, wanted to enslave anything supernatural, they said no, then there was a war."

"And you said vampires were almost completely wiped out?"

"Correct. They finally teamed up with the witches and managed to expel them from this dimension. They've been unable to enter since then, as far as I know."

The wheels in Buffy's mind were spinning - first with thoughts on how this explained Eric's reaction (but how was _she_supposed to know about the war?), but then her mind started spinning in a new direction. There was a spell out there that could ban Wolfram and Hart from a dimension…

"Tell me more about this spell," she said, resisting the urge to rub her hands together.

"I don't know anything about it. Anyway, we have to kill Mickey now," Pam said. "We're almost there."

Tucking away that line of thought for later, Buffy looked away from Pam to see they were on a street filled with small but neat houses. A neighborhood of people that worked hard for what they had and took care of it. Porch lights were on, but the street was silent and still. Buffy glanced at the clock and guessed that most regular people had to work tomorrow, so they were probably all in bed at this hour. At least she was hoping they were. She'd rather not have any witnesses to what she was about to do…

Pam pulled up to the curb in front of the house instead of pulling in the driveway - good call, faster getaway. Buffy got out, keeping her eyes locked on the house as she did. Mr. Pointy was a comforting shape against the small of her back. She heard Pam get out behind her, walking around to the side of the car facing the house but going no further. Buffy stopped on the sidewalk, her spidey senses telling her that Mickey was indeed in the house. Just as she thought of him, the front door swung open, leaving him standing there, shirtless and sneering. He stepped out on the porch, but didn't come down.

"What's the matter, Mickey? Don't wanna come out and play?" Buffy asked, cocking her head and pouting a little like he'd hurt her feelings.

"With you? Anytime," Mickey said, then his gaze drifted to Pam. He didn't look particularly worried, more like he just wanted to know if Pam would be joining in on the "fun".

"Oh, no. I'm just here to watch," Pam said, leaning back against the passenger door. "I would not like to owe Salome reparations for killing you. You're not worth the hassle that would involve."

Mickey snarled and Pam just smiled. Seeing that he wasn't intimidating Pam any, he swung his gaze back to Buffy. She still hadn't pulled Mr. Pointy, just stood there in the front yard looking small and very killable. Apparently it was too much of a temptation to resist - Mickey stalked down from the porch toward her, his sneer turning into something eager and darkly excited.

"Know what I've been doing to your friend since we left the bar? I'll give you a hint - it involves her bent over the kitchen table, crying and begging me to stop hurting her," he laughed.

"Of course you did," Buffy said with a shrug, not letting the building fury show on her face. "How else would a piece of trash like you get any action?"

The smile melted off his face as he reached her. He bared his fangs and she rolled her eyes.

"I'll have you on your knees, bitch," he bit out, circling her slowly, his gate swaying and predatory. "Begging me for mercy and sucking my- URG!"

He looked down at the stake sticking out of his chest in amazement.

"Oh, I'm sorry, were you still talking? That was rude of me."

Buffy yanked the stake out of Mickey, who fell to his knees, blood boiling out of his mouth as the movement jarred him.

"Ew, I hate it when they leak…" She said, then kicked him in the shoulder so he fell backwards. She wasn't taking the chance he'd fall forwards and splash vampire gunk on her clothes.

"That was… anti-climactic," Pam said, looking disappointed as she walked up next to her to survey Mickey.

"Yeah, I know. I was hoping he'd give me a chance to pummel him a little…"

"Then why didn't you play with him more?" Pam asked, an edge of accusation to her words.

"It's hard to see an opening like that and not take it," Buffy said defensively. "He was just standing there, running his mouth, chest all naked and unguarded, practically begging to be staked!"

Pam shook her head at the corpse at their feet, then looked up at Buffy, studying her curiously.

"Eric had said you were fast. I thought he meant fast for a human. You're fast for… anything, really. Why is that?"

"Just lucky I guess," Buffy said flatly.

Actually, she was a little surprised at how easy it had been herself. She hadn't been expecting a fight like she'd had with Victor or Andre, but still something closer than what she'd gotten. Maybe Mickey had just underestimated her that badly, or was just that pathetic. Or maybe she was faster…

"So what should we do with him? Just wait around until he melts and hose him off the sidewalk?" Buffy asked, changing the subject.

"Let's set him on fire," Pam said, looking way too excited about that idea.

"This is a residential neighborhood. We can't just burn bodies in the front yard. Plus, it'll stink. Have you ever tried to get the smell of burning vampire out of your hair?"

Pam looked a little disappointed but nodded knowingly.

A small sound from the porch had them looking away from the dissolving Mickey. There stood Tara, looking shocked and more than a little green, but mostly just relieved. The fresh bruising on one side of her face made Buffy wish she could bring the bastard back and stake him again.

"I'll take care of this," Pam said, moving toward the porch.

Buffy grabbed her arm, halting her progress. "What are you doing?"

"We can't leave a witness behind."

"You're not killing her," Buffy said, hand tightening on Pam's arm.

Pam looked down at Buffy hand and raised an eyebrow. "I'm not planning on it. I was just going to make her forget what she saw. May I go now?" She asked sarcastically, a bit of an edge to her words.

Buffy dropped her hand in embarrassment. She hadn't felt any weird dangerous vibes from Pam at all, she'd just automatically jumped to the wrong conclusion. Even after sleeping with Eric and being friends with Rasul, her prejudice against vampires was still there, strong and kicking under the surface. For the first time she wondered if that was the reason neither of those relationships was going very well at the moment…

"The eye voodoo thing. Yeah, sure, okay," she babbled awkwardly. "Sorry about grabbing you like that."

Pam stared at her a moment longer and then nodded, turning back to the porch and heading for Tara. The girl's eyes were wide and she was shaking slightly but she didn't back away. Stopping on the top step of the porch, Pam looked up, catching Tara's gaze. She went still and Buffy heard Pam say quietly, "You saw nothing out here. Mickey went outside to check on something and never came back. That is all."

Tara nodded, her eyes unfocused. Convenient, but also way creepy…

"Now go inside and go to sleep," Pam finished.

Tara nodded again and went back inside. Pam started to come back down the steps but Buffy called to her before she made it a step.

"Hey, grab some garbage bags from her kitchen while you're up there."

"For what?"

"I don't want him getting ick all over my interior."

She wanted to tell Pam to hurry since they were pretty much completely exposed out there. Anyone could look out the window at any second, see her standing over a decomposing body and call the cops. But she thought she'd given all the orders Pam was going to take and decided not to press her luck.

Pam came back out a minute later, not only with a handful of garbage bags, but also an area rug and a bucket of water. She sat the bucket and bags in the yard then laid the carpet out next to the body. Seeing where she was going with this, Buffy put a foot on his shoulder while Pam put one on his hip and they shoved. He rolled onto the rug easily, but left a greasy smear behind on the sidewalk. Buffy's face scrunched up in disgust, but Pam just went to work rolling the body up in the carpet. When she was done Buffy had to admit that this would make it much easier to move him around. She just wished they could tie the ends up like a big tootsie-roll, she didn't wanting anything oozing out of the ends…

After laying the rear seats down in the SUV and layering the floor with plastic bags (a piece of one Buffy stole to wrap Mr. Pointy in before tucking him in her pocket) , Buffy and Pam each grabbed an end of the rug and hauled it to the back. Buffy hadn't really liked the idea of driving something so big when she'd first picked the SUV up, but now she was glad for it. She'd never have fit that rug in a regular car.

After splashing the water on the greasy spot on the sidewalk and leaving the empty bucket on Tara's porch, Buffy hopped back in the passenger seat and they took off.

"Good thing you ran away to the sticks to get away from Eric," Pam said, turning down a side street back towards the more rural area. "Lots of body burying potential out here."

"Hey, I didn't _run away_. I came here to help Sookie, alright," Buffy said. "Someone's shooting shifters here and they need to be stopped."

"So, you find the shooter and you'll go back to Shreveport?" Pam asked, glancing at her.

"Sure," Buffy said, trying to sound like she couldn't care less. "No reason not to."

"What have you found out so far?"

Buffy didn't like the determination in Pam's voice, but she went ahead and told her the little bit she'd found out, including her suspicions toward Sookie's brother. But she also admitted that the more time she spent around him, the less she thought it was him. He was a jerk, for sure, but she didn't think he was a murderer.

"That's a good reason to hold a grudge though," Pam said, speaking of Jason's bitten werepanther status. "If it isn't him, are there any other's in town in the same position. Bitten, not born, shifters?"

Buffy started to say she didn't know when she remembered there was another person that had had the same dim kind of energy Jason had. A diluted feeling from what radiated from Sam or Alcide.

"The cook," she said. "The cook at Merlotte's… I think she was like Jason."

"Well, that's a place to start then," Pam said, looking at the clock. "The bar's closing now, but maybe we can catch her before she leaves."

"Shouldn't we do something with Mickey first?"

"What's the rush? He's not going anywhere."

Buffy couldn't really argue with that. She just hoped he didn't start to stink…

A few minutes later they were on the road Merlotte's sat on when they passed an abandoned car on the side of the road. Buffy almost ignored it, but the vampire tingle she felt when they went by had her sitting up straighter.

"Stop the car," Buffy said, eyes locked on the rear view.

"You want to help a stranded motorist while we're hauling around a body?" Pam asked, but she pulled over anyway.

Buffy was out the door before they'd even fully stopped, sprinting back toward the abandoned car. She slid to a stop next to it, her breath catching in her throat as she spotted the man lying in the back seat. She yanked the door open, ready to check for a pulse, but was slowed down by the wave of alcohol fumes that smacked her in the face. Her nose scrunched up as the man on the seat stirred.

"Huzza whazzit?" The guy slurred, eyes opening a slit before he fell asleep again.

Letting out a sigh of relief, she shut the door and faced the woods next to the road, watching the darkness warily.

"Come out, come out, wherever you are," Buffy sing-songed into the night, pulling Mr. Pointy from her pocket and tugging the sticky plastic from it. "If you make me come in there, you're gonna be so sorry."

After a beat of silence the shadows to the right shifted and a figure emerged from between the trees.

"Charles?" Buffy shook her head. "Son of a- I really liked you…"

"I have a feeling we're about to lose yet another bartender," Pam sighed, arriving at Buffy's side. "Eric will be unhappy…"

"I think you're jumping to conclusions, I was merely taking a walk and thought I'd check on this gentleman. I remember him from the bar-"

"You just happened to be strolling by here, where this man was laying helpless?" Pam asked, sounding amused. "And you hid in the woods when we came by, because…"

"I was afraid someone would get the wrong idea. Obviously it was a valid concern," he said with a little hand wave at Buffy.

"Shut your rum hole, pirate boy," Buffy said, rolling her eyes. Her slayer senses had clearly felt killing intent, definitely not good Samaritan, drifting vampire vibes. "We're not buying the act. If we'd come by a few minutes later, you'd be trying to convince us you were checking his pulse with your mouth."

Charles looked about to argue some more, but when he met her eyes he kept silent. Finally he smiled humorlessly and bowed a little. Buffy hoped it meant he was going to stop trying to feed her that line of bull.

"Actually, I wasn't going to bite him," he said with a shrug. "Just break his neck."

Well, she got her wish, he was giving up the act. Buffy was a little disappointed, though. She'd almost wished he'd been able to convince her he hadn't been up to anything - she'd really liked him…

"So, you weren't even hungry? You were just going to kill him, what? For kicks?" Her hand tightened on the stake.

"No, he had a purpose. He was to take the blame when I killed Sookie."

"Why would you want to kill Sookie?" Pam asked, sounding just as lost as Buffy felt. What the hell was he up to?

"A debt is owed," was all he said.

But apparently it was enough for Pam, because she let out a little laugh. "Hot Rain sent you, didn't he? He just called the bar a few nights ago demanding a larger recompense for the death of Long Shadow. Did he think killing Sookie would hurt Eric and make them equal?"

"Hot Rain? Long Shadow? Are these guys like some kind of Native American strippers?" Buffy snorted, then adopted a sleazy announcer voice. "Are you ready to wet, ladies? Because it's time for… Hot Rain!"

Pam gave a light snort, not taking her eyes from Charles. "Long Shadow was a previous bartender who was caught embezzling money from the bar. Sookie was the one that figured it out. Eric killed him when attacked her for revealing the truth."

"Wait a minute… _you_were the one that shot Sam!" Buffy said in a burst of triumph. "I knew something was off there. You needed to get up here and get close to Sookie so you took the chance that Eric would send you if Sam couldn't work."

Pam nodded approvingly. "A good plan, actually."

"I'm glad you approve," Charles said with a small smile. "Although I'm having doubts that the death of Sookie would've had the result my master had desired. When he sent me, he was under the impression that Sookie was someone Eric was growing very affectionate towards. But from what I've seen. Another blond, might actually have been a better choice…"

"Me?" Buffy asked as Charles eyes landed on her pointedly. "I don't think so. He might be thinking about paying to someone to kill me at this point."

"You underestimate his feeling for you," Pam said, glancing over at her seriously. "He's been very… _tetchy_since your disappearing act. Although, it has been fairly entertaining…"

"What did you do?" Buffy asked suspiciously.

"I told him you were probably fine. Worst case scenario, Victor had tracked you down and was raping and torturing you to death."

Buffy's eyes widened, but she couldn't help but to ask curiously, "How'd he take that?"

She grinned evilly. "It was very amusing."

"So he does care," Buffy said with a smile.

"Then it really _is_you I should be killing instead," Charles said, taking a sudden leap at her.

Buffy was ready for him though, grabbing the front of his shirt as she let his weight bear her to the ground. As soon as her back hit the leaf littered ground, she rolled backwards, pulling him up and over her and landing on top of him, stake through his heart before he probably even knew what was happening. Yanking Mr. Pointy free, she stood up and looked at Pam.

"I guess not wanting someone to be raped and tortured doesn't actually mean he cares though," she said, deflating a little as she bent down and wiped Mr. Pointy on Charles' ruffled shirt. "Or maybe he just didn't want it to be Victor that got me. I got the feeling there was some old issues there."

"Are you… what's the term? Ah, yes, 'fishing for compliments'? Or are you truly that insecure?"

"I'm not insecure," Buffy huffed, finding the discarded piece of plastic and rewrapping Mr. Pointy before sticking him back in her pocket. "He's just… difficult. I mean, I think he likes me, then I find out he's been lying to me. He yells at me about stuff I had no way of knowing was a big deal. Then he keeps secrets about stuff that _is_a big deal. You don't act like that with someone you care about."

"So you haven't been keeping secrets or reacting harshly to things that _he_might not have thought were a big deal?"

Buffy opened and closed her mouth a few times before sagging. "Okay, you've made your point," she conceded. Looking back down at Charles, she frowned and sighed. "He's starting to drip, we should do something with him while he's still kinda solid."

"See, if we'd set Mickey on fire, it would probably still be going. We could've just thrown Charles on the pile."

"Yeah, that's too bad," Buffy said dryly.

Minutes later they had Charles bundled up in the rug with Mickey and were back on the road, still headed toward Merlotte's.

"Charles wouldn't have been out there if the bar hadn't been closed. Everyone will be gone by the time we get there," Pam pointed out.

"Then we'll need Sweetie's address, might as well get it while we're out here and the place is empty," Buffy said.

"We'll be breaking and entering?" Pam asked, sounding way too excited at the thought.

"Yep, a little B and E to top off our double homicide."

"Spending time with you is much more exciting than I'd thought it would be. I can understand Eric's obsession a little better now."

Buffy was about to ask about the "obsession" word choice, but the appraising look Pam was giving her took precedence.

"I'm not into girls," Buffy felt the need to put out there.

"I know. And it's a shame," Pam sighed, looking back to the road.

Ten minutes and three complaints that breaking and entering had turned out to be boring from Pam later, they were back on the road and headed into town, Sweetie's address in hand. They were on the road Sookie lived on when they spotted a pale figure by the side of the road. As they got closer, it turned out to be Bill checking his mail.

Both of them looked at each other and then glanced at the bulging rug in the back.

"We could, you know," Pam said, looking thoughtful. "I doubt anyone would miss him."

"Nah, if he died then he'd go from being the dick next door that cheated on her to the first love that died a horribly tragic death. I don't want him getting to martyr status in Sookie's head."

"I suppose…" Pam said, giving one last look at Bill in the rearview mirror.

Where Tara's house had been small but well taken care of, Sweetie's house and all the neighboring ones looks abandoned. Some had broken windows, most had more dirt than grass in the front yard, toys and broken bicycles along with the occasional car on blocks or a jack were also scattered here and there. Guess even towns as small as Bon Temps had a rough area.

Buffy knocked on the door, hearing it echo inside the house. She had the insane urge to yell, "Police, open up", but held back. When no one answered, she grabbed the handle and turned to Pam.

"Go around back in case she tries to sneak out," she said. "If she's our shooter, she might try and run for it."

Pam nodded and disappeared in the blink of any eye.

The door was locked, but with a hard turn of her wrist, it popped open for her. She stepped in cautiously, eyes searching out shadows for movement. From what she could see from where she was standing, the place looked completely empty. She saw not one piece of furniture, no clothing or dishes, not even a candy wrapper.

Searching the place silently was out of the question - her steps creaked loudly over the threadbare carpet, the floor beneath sounded rotted and ready to give at any minute. But she tried to move as quietly as possible anyway, steps quick and fluid. The door to the nearest bedroom was open and she caught sight of something back there, so she moved toward it to investigate.

A cot sat against the back wall, old and swayed with a crumpled pillow and messy sheets. A fold-out chair was in the corner, clothes thrown on it. And in between sat a large box of ammunition. Bingo. But where was Sweetie and where was the gun?

A small click behind her answered that question.

Putting her hands out to her sides slowly and hoping she wasn't going to get shot in the back, Buffy turned little by little, not wanting to make Sweetie jumpy by moving too fast. But the last thing Sweetie looked like was jumpy when Buffy was finally facing her. Cigarette in her mouth and hands on the big rifle, the cook looked nothing more than annoyed.

"Now aren't you just a pain in the ass," she said, smoke curling around her words.

"I get that a lot," Buffy shrugged.

"Not any more you won't."

Buffy dove to the left before the sound of the shot even reached her. Pain burned in her right arm, but she ignored it, hitting the ground in a roll and coming back to her feet in a low crouch. She was up and ready just in time to see Sweetie crumpling to the ground next to the far wall. Pam stood in the doorway, holding the gun with a look of distaste on her face as she studied it.

"Looks like Mickey and Charles are getting a roommate," Pam said, leaning the gun against the wall and walking toward Sweetie.

"She's dead?" Buffy asked, watching the woman with wide eyes. "Couldn't you have just knocked her out or something?"

"Didn't really think about it," Pam said, getting annoyed. "Couldn't you have just knocked out Mickey or Charles?"

Buffy was about to say, "No, but they were vampires, not humans," but snapped her mouth shut before the words could get out. Sweetie would have killed her just as quickly as Mickey or Charles. She'd already killed Heather Kinman and tried to kill that Norris guy. Pam had saved her life. Yet, there she was, still filled with a knot of horror at the loss of a human life. She wasn't sure whether that was a good thing or bad…

"Quit making that face," Pam sighed. "She's not dead. She would be if I had my way, but I can see you're going to get all weak and sentimental about it."

Buffy wasn't able to keep her relief off her face. "It's better this way. We can't just make her disappear, she's been shooting people. We need to call the cops."

"What a wonderful idea," Pam said sarcastically, giving Buffy an aggravated look. "Let's call the police to the house we broke into and attacked a woman. Oh, and maybe we should let them take a look at the two other bodies we have in the car while we're at it."

Buffy opened her mouth to argue, but shut it. Pam was right. The way things stood now, they looked way suspicious.

"It's obvious no one will be missing her," Pam went on, looking around the empty house. "What difference does it make if police know it was her or not? Just as long as the shootings stop, that should be all that matters."

It wasn't all that mattered, though. But Buffy wasn't sure how to explain to Pam in a way she'd understand that humans should be tried by humans, that the family of the girl that was killed should get closure, that Calvin would like to know he doesn't have to worry about anyone coming back to finish the job. But mostly she couldn't put into words how the thought of killing her and burying her with a couple vampires in an unmarked grave rubbed her the wrong way.

"I know it seems stupid to you, but I can't do that. We can tie her up and call in an anonymous tip."

"Fine, but you'll need to bandage that up before we leave," Pam said, drawing Buffy's attention to the bleeding wound on her arm. Judging from the rip in the shirt and jacket, the bullet had just grazed her, but the blood was already soaking through the fabric from her shoulder to elbow. If she left it, it would start dripping - not a good idea to leave her blood at a house the cops would be crawling all over soon.

"After you get that taken care of, wipe off anything you touched. And get the back door knob and the gun barrel where I grabbed it."

Buffy grabbed a shirt from the pile of clothes next to her and used it to wrap around the bloody wound. And she'd been doing so good not ruining her clothes so far tonight! Two vampires and nothing. Yet one human and her jacket _and_shirt are destroyed. Buffy shot the subject of her ire a nasty look and saw Pam walking toward the unconscious woman.

"What are you going to do?" Buffy asked, trying to sound curious instead of accusatory.

"Try and wake her up so I can make her forget we were here," Pam said, squatting down in front of her. "It wouldn't do to call in the cops and then have her start saying two blonds broke in and set her up."

"Oh, yeah," Buffy said, feeling stupid for not thinking of that. "That would definitely be of the bad…"

Reaching deep down and digging out some trust, Buffy left Pam alone with Sweetie to go wipe down door knobs. When she got back, Pam was standing up, straightening the wrinkles from her clothes, and Sweetie was tied at the hands and ankles with strings from a Merlotte's apron. Buffy carefully wiped down the place on the gun where Pam's hand had been and asked how it went.

"Hard to tell how it'll take when they're addled like that," Pam said with a shrug. "I got her to wake up long enough to give the suggestion, but she was pretty disoriented. We'll just have to hope for the best. Unless you've changed your mind and are going to let me finish her off?"

Pam sounded hopeful, but even though Buffy knew that would be the easiest and safest solution for them, she still shook her head. Pam gave her a look that reminded Buffy of her mother - a look that said "You just did something so stupid and I'm very disappointed in you" - then headed for the door. Buffy gave one last look at the tied and unconscious woman that had killed a young girl and then followed, wondering at her sense of right and wrong. She'd killed Charles just for planning on killing someone. And Mickey for just hurting Tara. Yet an actual murderer she was leaving for the police…

The ride back through town was silent after Buffy made her anonymous tip to the police. Pam was still and silent, only her hands on the wheel and her feet on the pedals moving. Buffy sat just as quietly, gazing out the passenger side window but not really seeing anything. At the next stop light, she finally broke the silence.

"I know my decisions don't make much sense to you, and really, sometimes they don't make much sense to me either," she said, glancing at Pam. "My sense of right and wrong probably seems really skewed to you. But where I'm from, the things I had to do, I needed that line. Things here are… different. I'm not sure what…" She just let the sentence drift off, words failing her.

"Fine," Pam said, finally looking at her. "But if I go to jail for this, you'd better plan on breaking me out."

Buffy smiled and looked back out the window. "We're not going to- Oh crap."

There, sitting in the car that just pulled up next to them, was Detective Andy Whatever-Flower.

"What?" Pam asked.

"I think we're going to jail," Buffy said, seeing the look of surprise and then suspicion as he looked over met Buffy's eyes.

The light turned green and Pam moved forward, the very image of perfect driving. But the cop fell behind them anyway, a little red and blue bubble light coming to life in his windshield.

"Maybe Charles and Mickey will get a roommate after all," Pam said, pulling over to the curb next to a 24-hour drug store.

"No, absolutely not, Pam. The rugs full."

"Fine," she said, sounding put out.

"If things go bad, you can just eye voodoo him, but no killing cops."

That was all she got out before Andy was tapping on Pam's window with his flashlight. Buffy made sure her bloody arm was hidden in the shadows next to the passenger side door and put on a politely interested look.

"Is there a problem, officer?" Pam asked once the window was down.

"Awfully late for a couple of ladies such as yourselves to be out and about," he said, looking between her and Buffy.

"And for you," Buffy said, giving a little smile. "I didn't realize big shot detectives pulled traffic duty for the middle of the night."

"License and registration," he said to Pam, ignoring Buffy's words. "Your ID too, Daisy."

She saw Pam give a tiny jerk and knew she was fighting not to laugh. Buffy dug into the middle console without complaint, pulling out her fake driver's license and the car's registration awkwardly with her left hand. Luckily Andy didn't seem to notice, probably because Pam was making sure to wiggle in her seat to reach her purse with just the right amount of twisting so her cleavage looked ready to pop out at any moment. She gave Buffy a secretive wink as she finally grabbed her purse, Andy's eyes tearing away from her chest as she fished out her ID and handed it to him.

He took both of their licenses and the registration back to his car with an order to turn off the engine and stay put. Once he was gone, Pam turned on her with a grin.

"Daisy?"

"Daisy Smithington," Buffy said with an eye roll. "They come up with the most ridiculous names for me, I swear."

"I can't imagine why, _Buffy_."

"Hey! There's nothing wrong with my name."

"Of course not," Pam said. "It's a perfectly ordinary non-ridiculous name. Now, tell me about this police man. How's he know your fake name?"

"He saw me poking around one of the places where Sweetie shot someone, got all suspicious about it."

"I wonder why," Pam said dryly.

Before she could defend herself, Andy was back, handing their IDs and registration back through the window.

"Everything looks like it's in order," he said, a tinge of disappointment to his words. Then his eyes drifted toward the back, landing on the rug.

Both Buffy and Pam went still and tense as his eyes narrowed.

"What have you got back there?"

"A rug," Pam said smoothly. "That's why we're out so late. We were picking it up in Shreveport. Then went out to dinner, met a few friends, you know how the time flies when you're having fun."

But Andy didn't look like he was buying it. Buffy resisted the urge to look back and make sure nothing was leaking out of it.

He moved back from the door. "Please step out of the-"

Buffy's heart was pounding so hard she almost missed the sound of his phone ringing. He gave an annoyed sigh and pulled it out of his pocket, still watching them carefully.

"What?" He answered. Buffy could hear the murmur from the other end, picking up on the words, "Randall Street", "gun", and "suspect". Andy's eyes widened and he said, "I'll be right there."

He stuffed his phone in his pocket, looking undecided for a moment before shaking his head. "Alright, you two get out of here."

They sat there and watched him get back into his car and make a u-turn. Buffy let out a huge sigh and turned to Pam. "Let's get rid of these damn bodies and get out of this freaky little town."

"Wait, I have an idea," Pam said, jumping out of the car and running into the drug store.

Buffy threw up her hands in disbelief, watching her disappear behind the sliding glass door, wanting to go in and drag her back out but afraid to leave the bodies unattended. Luckily, the store was empty and Pam was in and out in less than two minutes. She tossed the plastic shopping bag to Buffy, who peered in it curiously as they took off down the road again.

"Shower caps?" Buffy asked in confusion.

"I didn't get to kill anybody, so I'm setting the bodies on fire," she said, her tone daring Buffy to argue with her.

"So the caps are to keep the burning body smell out of our hair?" Buffy asked, crinkling her nose, then shrugging. "Whatever. I don't even care anymore. I just want to be done with it."

Ten minutes later they had donned their shower caps and were each carrying an end of the now mushy carpet through some woods. Buffy caught sight of a cemetery through the trees and paused, remembering something Sookie had said to her about the area.

"We're not on Sookie's land are we?" She asked, not wanting to burn bodies on her friend's property.

"No, it's Bill's," Pam said with a grin.

"Oh, that's okay then."

After a few more minutes of trekking they came to a clearing and dropped the rug with a wet plop. Buffy gave the shower cap an irritated shove as the weight of her hair tried to pull it off to the side.

"Okay, get to it pyro," she said, waving at the rug and taking a couple steps back.

"Give me a lighter," Pam said, looking at the rug in unholy glee.

"I don't have a lighter."

"What?" She asked, her face falling. "Why not?"

"_Why_ would _I_ have a lighter?" Buffy asked completely confused. "You're the one that keeps talking about setting people on fire. _You_should be the one with the lighter."

"I don't smoke."

"Neither do I."

They both started at the rug for a moment.

"We don't even have a shovel," Buffy said. "We suck at this."

"If we'd killed Sweetie like I'd suggested, we wouldn't be in this position. She smokes, she would've had a lighter."

Buffy was about to argue that they wouldn't be in that position if Pam hadn't suggest setting them on fire when she hadn't had a way to make it happen, when she felt a tingle at the base of her spine. Great. Just what they needed.

"We've got company coming," Buffy said, reaching for Mr. Pointy and turning toward the source of the warning. "Vampire-type company."

"If it's Bill, I vote we throw him on the pile," Pam said seriously. "We've already given him one pass, he doesn't get two."

"Agreed."

But the person that stepped into the clearing wasn't Bill.

It was Eric.

"What the _hell_are you two doing?"

Buffy froze and looked at Pam, who looked back at her with wide eyes, her shower cap puffed up like the top of a muffin. Buffy closed her eyes, knowing she looked just as ridiculous.

"You wouldn't happen to have a lighter, would you?" She heard Pam ask.


	35. Chapter 35

**Author's Note**: Just wanted to apologize for the late and short chapter. I meant to give you guys a heads-up about this last week, but completely forgot. From now until around Christmas, updates will be a little off. I'm working on fics for the LJ Wishlist as well as CfB, so my time's spread a little thin.

Also – **WARNING** – Mature content in this chapter.

**Chapter Thirty-Five**

Eric looked between his second and his lover, trying to find some logic in what he was seeing. The two of them were standing in a clearing, wearing what looked to be shower caps, next to a rug that smelled like it had decomposing bodies in it. Buffy had her eyes closed - embarrassment rolling off of her. Pam though, was staring at him impatiently.

"Lighter, Eric?"

"I don't have a lighter," he said incredulously. "Why would I have a lighter?"

Pam shook her head in disgust, as if he'd come there woefully unprepared.

"I'm going to go find one. I'll be back," she said, then disappeared off through the trees. Probably to steal something that would induce fire from Bill's house…

"What are you even doing here?" Buffy asked, straightening up and looking him in the eye, trying to act as if being caught in a shower cap with a rug full of bodies was an everyday occurrence.

"Sookie called me. She was very vague about whatever was going on, but was worried you two had gotten into trouble."

The truth was, he'd been relieved when Sookie had called. He'd been feeling a myriad of emotions from Buffy that night and had been frustrated at his lack of ability to find her. Usually, with a blood bond, the vampire could track the person who'd had their blood. With Buffy, he could feel all her emotions battering him with the intensity of a hurricane, but whenever he tried to zero in on the source, it was like something would block him.

"Oh, crap," Buffy aid, biting her lip slightly. "I completely forgot about Sookie, I guess I should've called her and let her know we were okay."

"And what exactly are _you_ doing here?" He asked.

She glanced back at the rug. "You mean, here in Bon Temps or here in this spot?"

"Both."

"Well, I ran into Sookie the other night and she told me about how someone was shooting shifters in the area, so I said I'd come help," she said, shrugging as if this were no big deal.

Eric was glad that he'd blocked her off from feeling his end of the bond as exasperated anger shot through him. He hoped she couldn't see the tightening of his jaw from where she stood. She might have been tougher, stronger and faster than a regular human, but he seriously doubted she was immune to bullets. From the look of the bloody bandage on her upper arm, that was pretty much a certainty.

"And is the person in that rug?" He asked.

"What? Oh, no, we tied her up and called the police with an anonymous tip. That's Charles and Mickey," she answered with a vague wave behind her.

Eric could do nothing but stare at her for a moment. "You killed Mickey and my bartender?"

"Hey, it's not like I just decided to go all homicidal on them out of nowhere," she said, putting her hands on her hips and looking ridiculous as the shower cap wobbled at the motion. "Charles was working for some Steamy Rain guy. He shot Sam and was planning on killing Sookie. And Mickey was just an ass, he totally had it coming."

Again, Eric was shocked into silence.

"Don't worry, no one saw her kill Mickey, so Salome won't come beating down any doors for reparations," Pam's voice came as she reappeared beside Buffy holding a long lighter. She clicked it to life and smiled at Buffy.

"Where'd you get that from?" She asked.

"Bill's. Apparently he's a big fan of candles."

"What a girl," Buffy snorted. "So he just gave it to you, no questions asked?"

"No, he wasn't home. I just went in and took it. I also rubbed his toothbrush in the toilet a little."

Buffy burst out laughing, doubled over from the force of it. Then straightened and asked curiously, "Wait, vampires brush their teeth?"

"Of course we do," Pam answered haughtily before dismissing Buffy to light the corner of the rug. It went up with a whoosh that had both the blonds jumping back in surprise.

"Jeez, Tara should really thank us for taking that thing. It's a death trap," Buffy said, patting the front of her clothes for any sparks.

"Cheap fibers," Pam said, shaking her head. "It reeks and the flames haven't even reached the bodies yet."

They both moved backward and upwind in unison.

"How'd you know we were here on Bill's land?" Pam asked with a curious glance at Eric.

"I had Bobby track your phone when you wouldn't answer it," he said with a glare.

Pam just shrugged though, her eyes already drawn back to the flames. "I was busy and didn't want to be interrupted so I turned it off."

"And you?" He asked Buffy.

"I don't even know where my phone is," she said, looking around the clearing like it would just appear out of nowhere.

He barely repressed a sigh and made a mental not to never allow the two of them out together again without someone with some sense escorting them.

"Pam, leave us," Eric said, tired of the games and interruptions.

Pam looked at him like he was crazy. "The fire just started."

The sound of fat popping and sudden stench of burning flesh accentuated her words. Buffy's nose crinkled as she cast a disgusted look at the flaming rug.

"She's been looking forward to this," Buffy said, walking towards him. "We'll go, she can stay. I didn't really want to talk by the roaring body fire anyway."

He fell in step beside her and they navigated the woods silently. Partially because they both knew Pam was still in hearing distance but also, Eric assumed, because neither of them knew where to start. He'd been determined to find her and get the issues between them straightened out, but now that the time had come, he wasn't sure where to begin. They were almost out of the woods when Buffy finally glanced over at him, pulling off her shower cap and stuffing it in her pocket. The release of the all that hair sent a fragrant wave at him that almost had him missing her words when she finally spoke.

"So, I, uh, heard about the whole war thing with Wolfram and Hart. If I'd have known about that…"

"But you didn't," he said, focusing on her words instead of the smell of her next to him. "I shouldn't have expected you to."

"No, you shouldn't have," she said, a spark of anger flaring from her before dwindling again. "But I guess I shouldn't have taken you there in the first place if I thought it was so important to keep secret. It wasn't really fair to you."

"I'm glad you trusted me with it," Eric said. "And I apologize for keeping the details of the bond from you."

"You really shouldn't have done that," she said firmly, her little flare of anger bursting to life again.

"And if I had told you immediately, what would you have done?" He gave her a second to contemplate it before answering his own question. "You would've stayed away from me."

They stepped out of the woods to a dirt path between her car and his own Corvette. She stopped and spun on him now that they were in the open, her mouth open and ready to deny, he knew. But then she paused, her expression turning slightly sheepish and resigned.

"Yeah, okay, probably. But that still doesn't make it okay."

"I understand."

"Do you?" She asked shrewdly, narrowing her eyes. "Because I can't tell. Why is that? Why aren't I getting any vibes from you anymore?"

"You made it clear that you didn't care for the bond, so I did what I could to lessen it by closing off what you felt from me. I couldn't shut of your end, but I tried to ignore it. You made that impossible though…"

Honestly, the bond with her was slightly exhausting. Feeling her alternate between anger, shock, annoyance, righteousness, confusion and a multitude of other emotions wore him out. He had no idea how she lived like that - feeling so much all of the time.

"Well, just stop it, okay. It's not fair that you get to feel what I'm feeling but I get nothing from you.

"You want to feel what I'm feeling?" He asked. "Fine."

He knew there was no outward sign of change, but he released those walls he'd built up and let Buffy become flooded with all that he'd been hiding. He saw her eyes widen and she swayed a little from the barrage. But then she obviously steeled herself and wrestled the onslaught into something more manageable. He was sure she was identifying his frustration with her, and probably his amusement as well. But from her sudden soft gasp he knew that above all else she could feel the heat from him. How much he wanted her. He took a step forward.

"Better?" He asked, his voice quiet and a little rough.

There was an answering flare of desire from her that made his stomach tighten and his fangs run out. He closed the last bit of distance between them, stopping when there were only a scant few inches of space between their bodies. She would've had to crane her neck to look up at him, but she seemed perfectly content staring at his chest. Her hands came up slowly to brush over cotton clad muscle. The feeling, warm and delicate but with a thrum of energy underneath, had him reaching forward and pulling her flush against him, trapping those hands against his chest. This close the scent of her blood was heady.

"I felt that happen," he said, brushing his fingers against the bandage on her arm. "I don't like feeling pain from you."

"It's not much fun on this end either," she said breathily.

And that was it. His control slipped away and he yanked her up to him, mouth finding hers with need that was more like desperation. It felt like so much longer than just days since he'd last touched her. His hands slid into her hair, tilting her head back further to get better access to every corner of her mouth. That wasn't good enough though, the height difference made it too difficult to keep her pressed to him and her mouth on his. He wanted, _needed_, to be touching her as much as possible.

Sliding his hands around and underneath her, he lifted so she slid up his body until her face was level with his. She responded enthusiastically, wrapping her legs around his waist, one hand going around his shoulders and clutching at the material of his t-shirt, the other buried in his hair.

He walked until his shins struck the front of his car, then lowered her to the hood, stretching out on top of her. This… This was right. Something just seemed to click in place for him when he was with her. His hands slid up her waist, pushing until he reached her bra and then including it in his sweeping removal. Her own hands reached for his shirt as soon as they were free of her sleeves, but he was quicker. The need to have her skin pressed to his so immediate that he had his own shirt off with barely a lost second.

The sensation of her warm skin and soft breasts pressed against him was almost overwhelming in its intensity. His eyes slid closed and his hips pressed urgently into her hers, drawing a gasp from her and a deep groan from him. Warm deft fingers danced down his body and slid between them, making quick work of the button and zipper on his jeans before gripping him tightly.

After that things got a little hazy, a rush of sound, color and urgency. He didn't really remember getting the remainder of their clothes off, but as he slid into her, everything snapped into sharp clarity once again. The feeling of her wrapped around him wasn't as good as he remembered. It was _better_. The heat, the friction, the flutter of contracting muscles, her soft panted breathes against his throat, fingers digging in, urging him on - nothing could ever compare to this.

Again he found his control lacking when it came to her. Between her emotions blasting from the bond and the incredible sensations her body ignited in him, he felt more like a ship at the mercy of a raging sea than a captain. It was less of shock this time though; more letting himself go and less a ripping away of his senses. Giving in seemed to help actually - the mantra in his head of not biting her this time seemed to stick a little more securely.

He was busily working his tongue down her throat, past her collarbone when he felt her still beneath him, fingers that had been digging into his shoulders halting in their fitful urging.

"Someone's coming," she whispered.

"I hope it's you, because it'll be me in not too much longer…"

"No, I mean a vampire someone is coming toward us," she said, removing her arms from around him to push up on her elbows.

Eric gave a long, languid thrust, making Buffy's eyes flutter shut and her head fall back.

"It's probably just Pam," he said, nuzzling the side of her neck.

"Well, I really don't want 'just Pam' to see us doing the nasty on the hood of your car," Buffy said, sounding more irritated than turned on now.

"Fuck off!" Eric yelled out into the woods. "There, better?"

"You couldn't find any other place to do this but on _my_ property?" A dreadfully familiar voice said from the edge of the woods.

"You've gotta be kidding me," Buffy said, pressing her face into Eric's shoulder. "Get lost, Bill. I hear there's a sale at Dillard's."

"'Get lost' - on my own land," Bill said derisively. "Why does it smell like smoke and death out here? And where's my lighter? I know Pam was in my house, did she steal it?"

"Oh my god, where'd my pants go… I need my stake," Buffy muttered shifting underneath Eric to look around the car. "I'll show him real up close and personal why it smells like smoke…"

"I suggest you leave, Bill," Eric said, keeping Buffy from getting out from under him. "I'll send you an entire box of lighters to replace the one Pam took."

"That's not the point. And you never answered-"

"If I let her up, you'll never get any answers to anything ever again," Eric said, his voice hitching as Buffy made a particularly violent lurch underneath him - the sensation making his eyes roll up a little. "Just leave and forget we were ever here."

His last words had been lined with a threat that Bill apparently took note of, because after an irritated sound from him, there was nothing else. After a few seconds, Buffy relaxed under him, telling him that Bill had indeed left the area.

"You should've just let me kill him," she huffed. "Who stands there and asks questions like that when two people are naked on the hood of a car?"

"The Queen has him working on something," he said, licking her pulse point and soothing her back into the activity at hand. "She'd be upset if something happened to him. Plus, letting you kill him would mean letting you up, and I'm perfectly content where I am." He gave another slow thrust in punctuation.

"Good point," she breathed, grabbing his hair and pulling his mouth to hers.

* * *

><p>Hours later they pulled up to Eric's house in Shreveport, Eric having convinced Buffy (by way of multiple orgasms) that she should stay with him until Sophie-Anne needed her back in New Orleans. Buffy tried to argue that Sookie was expecting her, but her heart really wasn't in it and Eric didn't seem like he could care less, saying, "She'll get over it" and ushering her into the Corvette.<p>

The drive back to Shreveport had started as a lesson in contortion as the two of them couldn't keep their hands off of each other, but it turned to a study in self-control after Eric almost drove off the road and Buffy put a stop to their antics.

Once out of the car though, the patience they'd shown melted away and they were on each other before they even reached the front door. Hands, lips, teeth - all pulling and exploring. They stumbled into the house without an ounce of either of their usual grace, Eric kicking the door closed behind them as his hands wandered her body. She only faintly noticed the interior before focusing once more on running her hands over his chest and set to work removing his shirt.

They weren't going to make it to the bedroom, that much was obvious, so when she caught sight of the couch, she yanked him toward it by top of his jeans, sending the button flying off into a shadowed corner somewhere. Eric was grinning widely by the time she'd shoved him down on the cushions and climbed on top of him, kicking off her shoes and hearing him do the same. He sat up under her so he could pull her shirt off as well, leaving her straddling his hips with her head thrown back as he snapped open her bra and focused his attention on her chest.

There was a sudden buzz of energy and a kind of popping sound. Eric yanked his mouth from her breast and looked over his shoulder in irritation, a low growl building in his chest and vibrating through her. Over it, she could hear a familiar voice wailing, "My eyes! Oh dear god, my _eyes_!"

Buffy rested her head against Eric's bare shoulder in mortification for the second time that night.

"Eric, meet my sister, Dawn."


	36. Chapter 36

**Chapter Thirty-Six**

Buffy, now thankfully fully dressed, took a deep breath and headed into the kitchen, dragging her feet a little as she thought of the upcoming conversation with her sister. She'd known she'd have to explain things to Dawn sooner or later if she planned on staying here, but she'd been hoping for _later_ rather than sooner. _Much _later.

The first thing she saw when she stepped through the doorway was Willow and her sister, both seated at the small dining set in the kitchen (which, what the hell did Eric have that for anyway? Did he sit down and read the morning paper - at night - with a warm cup of blood?). Willow jumped to her feet as soon as she caught sight of Buffy, looking so guilty it was almost painful.

"I'm _so _sorry, Buffy! I didn't mean to pop in on you again - I mean, I did, but I didn't… It was just that Dawn kept asking where you were, and then Spike blabbed and she just wouldn't take no for an answer and-"

"Breathe, Will," Buffy said, sliding into a stool at the counter and glancing over at Eric, who was leaning against the wall apparently having a staring contest with Dawn. She wasn't sure who would win that one… Eric just looked amused, but Dawn looked pissed - pissed off Dawn could stare like no other.

"No more, I swear. I've learned my lesson," Willow said earnestly.

Buffy wanted to assure her it was fine, that she had no way of knowing what she was popping in on, but the words stuck in her throat - blocked by the thought of what her little sister had seen. She needed a serious brain bleaching… Maybe it would be better if Willow _did_ feel a little bad, if it kept a repeat of this from ever happening again. Plus, there was another detail to their visit that Buffy _really _didn't want to think about right then. That would have to wait until she and Willow were alone... So, Buffy just gave her a nod and a tight smile before turning her attention on Dawn.

Dawn, her eyes still narrowed and locked on Eric, apparently felt Buffy's attention settle on her and spoke without interrupting the stare-down.

"I don't hear from you for ages, then you finally show up and you're all mopey and distracted, then you disappear again. You really thought I'd just let that fly?"

"I was hoping so, yeah." Buffy shrugged. "What, did Spike just call and tattle on me?"

"I called him looking for you, but he was pretty eager to tell me about it. So, is it true? You're seriously living here now? In some other dimension? What the hell, Buffy?" Dawn asked, finally tearing her eyes from Eric to stare at her sister.

"I tried to explain-" Willow put in tentatively.

"Oh, yes, that you 'found happiness somewhere else'," Dawn interrupted scathingly. "Seriously? You just _leave_? And you don't even tell anyone?"

The "you didn't even tell _me_" was left unspoken but heard plainly by Buffy anyway.

"Dawn, it wasn't like I was never coming back."

"Dammit, Buffy, I was worried," Dawn said, deflating. "You never answer your phone. You didn't come home for Christmas or New Years…"

"Dawn, I don't _have _a home," Buffy laughed - then immediately regretted it as both Dawn's and Willow's faces morphed at the same time.

"Oh no, no pity-faces. I didn't say that to make you feel bad or anything. It's just a fact," she said, waving her had around in front of her. When their faces just looked more sad, she snapped, "Knock it off."

"You could've spent Christmas at Slayer Headquarters or with Willow and Kennedy or you could've come stayed with me and Gino at his family's place…" Dawn's voice drifted off as she must've recognized how awkward all of those options would've been. "Yeah, okay. I see your point. But you can see why I was worried, right? What would you do if I was the one that suddenly fell off the grid?"

Buffy had a sudden vision of herself as the Terminator and shook it off. "Yeah, okay, point taken."

An awkward silence settled over the room after that - until Dawn couldn't stand it anymore, that is.

"What the hell are you doing here?" She finally burst out, throwing her hands out to the sides.

"You know, stuff…" Buffy said lamely.

"Stuff as in boinking hot vampires? You could've done that at home - hell, you've been doing that for ages anyway. Why'd you have to come here for some action?"

Eric's eyes had slid from Dawn to Buffy, the feeling of amusement being threaded with surprise and a dash of jealousy.

"I mean, you're the Vampire Slayer," Dawn barreled on. "Like, the prototype for all the other girls, and you've got this weird vampire fetish. I thought it was just Angel and Spike, but apparently it's-"

"Dawn," Buffy hissed. "Shut. Up."

Dawn's jaw snapped shut with a click and a sheepish look washed over her face as she ticked her eyes toward Eric, whose eyebrows had climbed as he mouthed the words "Vampire Slayer".

Willow was eyeing the door like she might make a run for it.

"I like it here," she said slowly, looking Dawn in the eye. "I was _bored_, okay? All that time you thought I was visiting the biggest ball of twine in Minnesota or making my own syrup in Vermont or laying on a beach in Florida - I was actually somewhere completely different hunting the world's most piddly evil. It was pathetic, so I found something better to do. End of story."

"And what are you doing here that's so much better?"

"I'm- uh, well-"

"She works for Sophie Anne Leclerq - the Vampire Queen of Louisiana," Eric said. "She's a very valuable asset."

Buffy closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose.

"You're working for a _vampire_?" Dawn shrieked. Her eyes then went dazed as she shook her head sadly. "An intervention. We need to do a vampire intervention for you. A Vampervention. It's totally gotten out of hand. You're a vampire addict, Buffy."

"Dawn, quit being so dramatic. It's-"

"Ohmygod, you don't want to _be _a vampire, do you?" Dawn interrupted.

"What? No, of course-"

"I don't think she could anyway," Eric said thoughtfully. "The way she reacts to ingesting vampire blood…"

Buffy let her head hit the table with a thump and mumbled, "Thanks for that Eric."

She could feel his amusement swirling through her - he was totally doing this on purpose. Bastard.

"Blood?" Dawn predictably freaked. "You drank vampire blood? Jeez, you'd think after your little fling with Dracula that you'd have gotten that out of your system."

"Dracula?" Shock sizzled through the bond, but Buffy ignored it. It was the only way to stay sane at this point - ignore them all.

"Okay, I think we all need to take a deep breath here," Willow said tentatively stepping forward, apparently seeing that Buffy was about to go into a self-induced coma. "Focus on the positive. Buffy's fine, she likes it here and she can come back and visit all the time. Dawn was worried, because she loves you, Buffy. She just wanted to make sure you were okay-"

"Nosey," Buffy murmured.

"_And_," Willow said loudly. "Well, that was it really, I just didn't want you two breaking into another argument. How about we try talking about this using 'I feel' statements instead of accusations and judgment?"

"Because that worked so well last time," Buffy said, rolling her head to look at Willow.

Willow flushed a little, apparently also remembering the "Angel Intervention" debacle.

"Well, we're not kids anymore," Willow said, straightening up, then casting a doubtful look at Dawn that turned stern. "We're going to have a civilized adult conversation about this."

"Fine," Dawn said, "I _feel _that Buffy's lost her damn mind if she's drinking vamp blood."

"Uh, that's not-" Willow started.

"And _I _feel, that Dawn is already being judge-y after Willow said not to be. Also, the drinking was accidental - I bit him after a mind shattering orgasm."

The look of frozen horror on her sister's face made her own embarrassment at admitting that totally worth it.

"As interesting as this is, I need some rest," Eric said, disappointment plucking at the bond as he pushed away from the counter and headed toward the hall. "I'll leave you three to it. Guest rooms are upstairs."

"Hey, hey, you just wait a minute," Dawn blurted out, making him pause and look back. "I'm not done with you. I need to know about the guy my sister's… seeing."

"The sun's coming up. He _has _to sleep during the day," Buffy put in quickly, wanting Eric out of there as fast as possible. "Vampires here don't really get much choice in the matter."

"Is that so… I'll remember that," Dawn said, giving Eric a threatening, narrow eyed look.

A flash of alarm went through him as he turned away and left the room without another word. Buffy couldn't really blame him - Dawn could be damn scary when she wanted to be.

"Dawn, was that really necessary?" Willow asked disapprovingly.

"Yes, it was, actually. We all know that Buffy's like a magnet for assholes. Best he learn now to keep his dickish tendencies under wraps," Dawn said with a shrug. "That or get killed in his sleep."

Another sizzle of slight alarm went through the bond and Buffy smothered a grin.

"I appreciate the thought, really," Buffy said. "But I can take care of my own love life."

They both gave her dubious looks.

"Whatever," Dawn said with an eye roll, then brightened. "Hey! We should go shopping while I'm here! I bet I could get stuff here no one at home has even heard of…"

Happy to go along with her sister's mood swings if it meant moving off the topic of Eric and her misadventures in love, Buffy latched on to shopping and ran with it - explaining about brands that were the same, ones that were almost the same, and ones that were new. Maybe they could go tomorrow…

"Pam will be upset if you shop without her," Eric called from deep within the house.

"Quit eavesdropping and go to sleep," Buffy called back with a small smile. "He's right though. We'll have to wait until the sun goes down."

"So Pam's a vampire?" Dawn asked.

"Yeah, she's like Eric's BFF," she said with a smirk at his feeling of irritation at her words. "She'd have a fit if we went shopping without her. The sun's coming up anyway, we'll probably sleep until late."

She mentally made a note to invite Sookie too - make up for bailing on her earlier…

She came back to herself to see Willow and Dawn staring at her expectantly.

"What?"

"Sleep?" Dawn asked. "As in, where are we going to?"

It took Buffy a second to realize she didn't know. Eric was an exceptionally crappy host. He hadn't even told her where anything was except the bathroom. He'd said the guest rooms were upstairs, but where the hell were the stairs? And what about her? She wasn't really keen on sleeping next to Eric if he was pretty much dead during the day. Ick factor of about eight right there.

"Uh, okay… Let's go get you guys settled in," she said.

She went slowly down the hall, trying to look relaxed and as if she knew where she was going. It turned out not to be too hard. She found the stairs like she'd known exactly where she was going, and the rooms were already set up for guests – four of them, all of them empty. Eric must sleep somewhere else...

"Where's the bathroom? I gotta pee," Dawn asked after examining her room with a critical eye.

"Thanks for sharing. It's down the hall on the left."

Buffy watched her sister walk out of the room and waited until she heard the bathroom door shut before she rounded on Willow - letting loose with the thing that had been bothering her most since they popped in.

"I can't believe you brought her here," she hissed. "_Knowing_ that people can't hop between dimensions all willy-nilly! What am I supposed to do with her for _weeks_, Will?"

"No, no, she doesn't need to stay that long," Willow said, shaking her head vehemently. "I think being the Key - her core kind of being formed from raw magic lets her hop unaffected, like me."

"You _think_?"

"Well, she didn't show any side effects from the trip over. None at all - unless you count the mental scarring she got from seeing her big sis all wrapped up in the sexy fun times."

Buffy glared as Willow giggled.

"How's it fair that you two are completely unaffected? I'm the Slayer, shouldn't I be protected, too?"

"You are , just not as much. Any other person would probably be dead by now."

"Oh." What could she really say to that? Then it hit her…

"So, she can come back anytime she wants with no side effects," she gaped.

"Well, not any time. I guess I could make her a ring too-"

"I swear, Will, if you make her one of those rings I'll rain down badness of epic proportions on your witchy head. Every horrible, embarrassing secret I know will be unleashed. Pictures, Will, I have pictures. No. Ring."

"No ring," Willow squeaked as the toilet flushed down the hall.

"Great! Now that we have that straight, I need your help with something else while you're here," Buffy said, speaking fast and shooting a glance toward the bathroom where she could hear Dawn washing her hands. "I learned that Wolfram and Hart came here about eight hundred years ago - long story short, the witches here managed to find a way to kick them out of this dimension and _keep_them out. We need to find out-"

She stopped when she heard the bathroom door open, but Willow gave a nod, showing she understood. It wasn't that she didn't trust Dawn with the information, it was that she knew her sister would have a hissy fit like no other if she found out Buffy was planning on poking Wolfram and Hart with a big flaming stick. But if there was a way to lock those bastards out of her home dimension, to keep them from getting their hands on Angel, there was no way she could pass that up.

She said goodnight to Willow and Dawn, noticing the distracted way the former answered - her mind already turning over what Buffy had revealed - and climbed into a bed in the room at the top of the stairs. She and Eric still had a lot to talk about, especially with all he'd heard from her big mouthed sister that night, and she wanted to get it all straight in her mind before she fell asleep. But all that kept rolling through her head was how much lighter she felt now that he was near and they'd mostly cleared things up. There was a smile on her face when sleep finally took her.

* * *

><p>Buffy woke around noon and ordered a pizza, then called Sookie. The other girl was not at all happy with Buffy's disappearing act, making her sound like a mother scolding her teenage daughter. She calmed down some after Buffy explained that everything was fine.<p>

"Better than fine, even," she'd added. "Mickey's out of the picture and the police caught the shooter last night. Oh… But you're going to need a new cook. And a new bartender…"

She'd left out that Charles had been plotting her murder. Sookie really didn't need to know that, after all. Sookie had been both pleasantly surprised and a little suspicious about what had gone down the night before, but before she could ask for details, Buffy invited her on their shopping expedition later on. It worked at distracting her - she stutter out a surprised, but pleased, acceptance and agreed to be there just before sunset.

Buffy had just hung up the phone when the pizza arrived. She was on her second piece when Willow came in. She took a piece of pizza from the box and slid into the seat across from Buffy.

"Thought you'd sleep for a while longer," Buffy said after swallowing. "All that dimension hopping's gotta wear a girl out."

"Nah, not really," Willow shrugged. "I really wanted to see what I could find out about that spell today."

"You think it's possible anyone still knows about it? Eight hundred years is a long time…"

"There has to be someone that knows, or some kind of record. I doubt they'd let something that important just get forgotten over time. Spells that scale are tricky - it's hard to tell how if they'll stick and for how long. Just assuming it would last forever and forgetting about it would be really, really stupid."

"Say you do find it," Buffy said, getting up to grab herself and Willow a couple of the cans of soda she'd had the pizza guy bring. "Do you think it could work in our dimension? You saw how different the dimension hopping spell was that Amelia put together for me…"

Willow looked thoughtful as she took the can from Buffy, her eyes focused somewhere else entirely.

"It's possible… I wouldn't know until I saw what it entailed. But even if it was completely different, I might be able to figure out how to rework it. I'd have to see the full extent of it and what its original intent was. Right now, I have no clue about how to even start a dimensional wall like that…"

She sounded disgruntled about that, like she should know how to do something as massive as a dimensional block without the help of a spell put together by probably hundreds, or even thousands, of witches centuries before. Buffy bumped her leg under the table.

"Knock it off. It's not on you to be master of the universe or something. We'll get the info and we'll go from there, 'kay?"

Willow gave a determined nod. "Right. I'm off then. I'll be back around sunset."

"Watch your back," Buffy warned. "I hear some of the witches here can be really nasty."

"So can I," Willow smirked darkly before disappearing.

"Nice to know Scary Will is still alive and kicking in there somewhere," Buffy mumbled sarcastically, shoving the remainder of her crust in her mouth before heading back to bed.

* * *

><p>A handful of hours later found Buffy in the bathroom downstairs getting ready for their girls night out. Dawn had dragged her out of bed a while ago for a pre-shopping shopping trip after she found out that Buffy had absolutely nothing at Eric's house (and didn't that just prompt a whole new round of squawking from her sister - "You don't have anything here? Not even a toothbrush?") So now she was in front of the mirror with bag of makeup and hair goodies at her feet while Dawn was probably in the same position in the bathroom upstairs.<p>

"So, what exactly is a 'vampire slayer'," Eric asked, making Buffy jump and almost tear out the chunk of hair she was curling as he strode into the bathroom in a pair of drawstring sleep pants.

"Why are you up?" She asked, trying not to stare at his chest in the mirror - she was working hard at keeping the lusty feelings locked away while her little sister was in the house. "The sun's not down yet."

"Curiosity allowed me to fight the sun's drain," he said with faux gravity that made Buffy roll her eyes as he sat down on the edge of the bathtub.

"You can do that? Just get up early?"

"Sunset's only an hour away. Are you going to answer my question?"

"Will you leave it alone if I say no?"

"No."

"Yeah, didn't think so," she sighed, wrapping another strand in the curling iron. "The spiel goes something like, 'One girl in all the world, a chosen one. She alone will wield the strength and skill to fight the vampires, demons and the forces of darkness; to stop the spread of their evil and the swell of their number. She is the Slayer'. Totally over dramatic. Basically some crazy shaman guys gave a bunch of power to a girl to fight evil way back in the day. When she died, a new girl got the power and the job title, and so on and so forth."

"Just one? For the entire world?"

"Yep. Well, it used to be just one. We changed that close to two years ago. Now there are tons of Slayers."

Eric pondered that in silence for a few minutes as Buffy finished curling.

"You seem young for such a job," He said finally.

"I was fifteen when I was chosen," she answered as she dug around in the drug store bag at her feet for some mascara.

"Fifteen?" He repeated, shock flicking though the bond. "How is someone so young expected to carry such a responsibility?"

"We weren't, I guess. At least not for long. Slayer shelf-life is only about a year or two. I'm ancient by Slayer standards," she said, shooting him a grin. It melted away at the hard look on his face. "Sorry, fatalistic Slayer humor takes some getting used to, I guess…"

"What did you mean when you said you didn't have a home," he asked, eyes boring into her even after she turned her attention back to the bag at her feet.

"Eric, do we really have to-"

"Yes."

She sighed and snatched some lip gloss out of the bag and sat it on the counter - reminding herself that she'd decided to be more open with him.

"It was my own choice, it wasn't like I was kicked out or anything. Well, there was that one time… See, I used to have a home, but it got sucked into a giant hole that was really the mouth to Hell. Then everyone kind of split up and they thought I should get to live a non-evil-fighting life because I wasn't the only Slayer anymore. Or the only not in jail anyway. But I didn't really want that anymore, so I just kind of wandered around and fought really lame, left-over evil. So, you see, the no home thing was totally by choice."

"I think your answer just raised ten more questions," he said, sounding half awed and half annoyed.

"Well, too bad. I don't have time to answer them," she said, putting her hair up in a clip and deciding she was presentable enough for the night. "We don't really have time for that. Pam will be here soon and if I don't go keep Dawn company, she'd going to come down here and start harassing you again."

Eric's lip curled slightly in distaste at that thought. She couldn't really blame him – Dawn harassment was in her top ten of least favorite things too, right under getting shot, stabbed or set on fire.

"Wait, you have to answer one more thing," he said, grabbing her arm and pulling her around before she could leave the bathroom. The look on his face was so intense it was almost scary.

"Okay, what?" She asked slowly, a spike of anxiety shooting through her about what question he could have that would make him look so serious.

"Tell me about Dracula?"

She blinked at him in surprise. "Uh, well, he's an ass. Totally full of himself. Kinda stalker-y too. And he poofs into smoke whenever you stake him. Every single time. _So _annoying."

She heard someone knocking at the front door and left Eric standing speechless in the bathroom.


	37. Chapter 37

**Chapter Thirty-Seven**

Sookie parked her old Nova behind Eric's Corvette, well aware that it looked wildly out of place in the well-to-do neighborhood. Giving the house and the area a once over as she climbed out, she couldn't help but give a low, impressed whistle. The grass was green and even, the hedges perfectly trimmed, and the tan stucco, now dyed a soft orange by the setting sun, looked freshly painted. She wasn't sure why she was surprised, it wasn't as if she'd spent any time thinking about what Eric's house might look like, but if she had, it wouldn't have been like this. Maybe it was his flair for the dramatic or the way he seemed to overflow with charisma, but some part of her obviously thought his house would reflect that.

She was so busy taking in the details around her, that she didn't notice something peculiar was going on with _herself_ until she was almost to the front door. It was almost like that feeling when you leave the house and are sure you're forgetting something but can't figure out what, but stronger. Something was… missing… She turned her head and looked around her as if the answer would pop out of the hedges. It was only when she saw two little boys go zooming down the sidewalk on their bikes that she realized what it was.

She couldn't hear any thoughts.

She whipped around on the front stoop to study the neighborhood more carefully. Her first thought was that maybe it was a vampire only community. But she discarded that almost immediately. Not only was there none of the strange vacant spaces where vampire thoughts should be, she'd also just seen the two little boys. There were other people around too - a man in a suit getting out of his car three houses down; a woman poking around in a rose bush across the street; a pizza delivery car cruising slowly by, looking at house numbers. Yet she heard nothing.

Well, that wasn't quite right, either. As she forced herself to really pay attention, she realized there was a low sound in the back of her mind - a hiss, almost like white noise or a heavy, steady rain. Maybe her brain had simply shorted out? She guessed it was possible, but if that was the case, then it had only happened recently. She'd stopped for gas on the way there and had had no trouble hearing the cashier's thoughts on how much he hated his job.

Still feeling a little dazed, but unsure what to do about it except wait and see what happened, she turned and knocked on the door. Maybe it was just Eric's house? Maybe he'd had something done to it so no mind reading could go on there. Which didn't really make any sense since vampire minds couldn't be read anyway…

The door opened, pulling her from her thoughts and revealing Buffy, who gave her a big smile.

"Sookie! Hey, come on in!" She said, stepping to the side and waving her in.

Inside, the strange static was more pronounced, lending credence to her unlikely idea about it being Eric's house that was interrupting her telepathy. Her eyes ticked around the entryway curiously, more concerned with what was blocking her senses than with Eric's interior decorating choices (surprisingly tasteful…).

"You okay," she heard Buffy ask behind her as the door shut. "You look a little… I don't know, paranoid or something."

"Uh, yeah, I guess I'm fine, it's just-"

A girl with long, dark brown hair came down the stairs, derailing Sookie's sentence. She paused at seeing Sookie in the entrance, then smiled brightly.

"You must be Sookie," she said. "Because you're way too tan to be a vamp. I'm Dawn, Buffy sister."

Dawn stuck out her hand, but Sookie just stood there, dumbfounded. Dawn's welcome look melted and she lowered her hand.

"Are you alright?" She asked, then turned to Buffy and whispered loudly, "Is she alright?"

"What's up, Sookie?" Buffy asked, coming to stand next to her and eying her in concern.

"My telepathy," she managed to get out. "It's… shorted out…"

"Tele- She can hear our thoughts?" Dawn squeaked turning red and taking a step back.

"No, she just said she _couldn't_ hear our thoughts," Buffy said in exasperation. "Pay attention. And what are you thinking about anyway that you'd get that nervous about someone else hearing it?"

"Nothing," Dawn snapped, relaxing a little. "So you can hear thoughts, but… you can't hear thoughts?"

"It's you," Sookie said wonderingly. "It's like your blocking everything else out somehow. All I get is this kind of low buzzing sound."

Dawn kind of curled in on herself. "Uh, sorry… I'm not doing it on purpose. I don't know how to stop it..."

"No! It's… It's so quiet," she said in amazement, relief rushing in now that she knew what exactly was causing the silence in her brain. "For as long as I can remember, everyone's thoughts were in my head. For once, it's just me…"

"And that's… good?" Buffy asked.

"Very good," Sookie answered, giving Dawn a huge smile that the other girl tentatively returned, tension leaking out of her.

"Hey, what's going on? I'm not late, am I?"

The sudden voice behind them had Sookie jumping a foot off the floor. Whipping around, she came face to face with a pair of earnest green eyes. She was sure she would've noticed the front door opening…

"Jeez, Will, don't pop up behind people like that," Dawn scolded. "What if she'd been old? She coulda had a heart attack or something."

"Sorry," she said sheepishly. "Uh, I'm Willow, a friend of Buffy's."

"Sookie," she answered, her heart rate slowly returning to normal.

"So, uh, Dawn, why don't you take Sookie to the kitchen, see if she wants something to drink while we wait for Pam to show," Buffy suggested with a quick tick of her eyes to Willow.

"You're the hostess," Dawn said. "This is you're boyfriend's house, you should be the one-"

"A drink sounds great," Sookie said, getting a thankful look from Buffy that her sister couldn't see.

Obviously, there was something Buffy wanted to talk to Willow about without her sister hearing, and as curious as Sookie was about that, she knew it was none of her business. Dawn shrugged and motioned for her to follow her down the hall. It wasn't too much of a hardship, leaving her curiosity behind. She found she _wanted_ to stick by Dawn. The fact that she blocked out everyone else's thoughts had ceased to be a worry and had become a kind of gift. For one night she'd get to be like everyone else.

* * *

><p>Buffy watched Dawn and Sookie disappear off toward the kitchen, then nodded her head toward the front door. Eric was still around and while she was okay with opening up a little, she'd rather not let him in on this particular item.<p>

Outside, the sun had completely disappeared, only traces of orange at the fringe of the horizon. It smelled nice, clean and fresh. Buffy took a second to take a deep breath and appreciate it before she turned to Willow and the not so clean and fresh conversation they were about to have.

"What did you find out?" Buffy asked, getting down to business.

"Not a whole lot, unfortunately," Willow said with a helpless little shrug. "The spell's real. And it's not lost. But what exactly it entails, I couldn't get anything on. Not without resorting to some drastic measures anyway…"

"What's that mean?" Buffy asked, not liking the way her friend's eyes slid away from hers.

"The thing is that it's not written anywhere. I guess they were worried that if the wrong person found out about it that they'd find a way to kind of… reverse engineer it - pull down the wall that was put up. So they only passed it verbally, and only to people with enough power to keep it safe. I found a few people that would know it, but when I tried to get them to talk to me…"

"They wouldn't."

Willow shook her head, still not meeting Buffy's eyes. "They could tell my magic was… tainted. They didn't trust me."

"That's total crap," Buffy growled. "You are _not_ tainted."

"But I am," Willow said flatly with a shrug. "That dark part of me is locked away, but it's still there. I did horrible things, I can't just erase that."

"So what you were saying about drastic measures…"

Willow cringed a little. "I meant, I could probably _make_ one of them talk. It would-"

"No."

"I know it's not the ideal solution, but-"

"_No_," Buffy bit out, maneuvering herself so Willow wouldn't have any choice but to look at her. "No way. You just got finished telling me you locked that part of you away. No way in hell are you giving it a day-pass out of the slammer to do something like that."

"I don't like the idea either, Buffy," Willow burst out, eyes wide and maybe a little scared. "But if there was a way to kick Wolfram and Hart out… Think how many live we'd save!"

"Not like that, Will," Buffy said, her voice softer. "We'll get the spell. I'll figure out a way. But not like that."

Willow's shoulders slumped, maybe in relief, maybe in resignation, and she gave a nod. Buffy put a hand on her shoulder and squeezed.

"We'll figure it out, we always do. But for tonight, let's just have some fun. Plenty of time for angsting later."

Willow cracked a tiny grin. "Right. Angst on hold."

They went back inside to track down Sookie and Dawn, both of them looking relaxed and worry free, but Buffy was sure it was just as much a mask with Willow as it was with her. She _had_ to find a way to get her hands on that spell…

Sookie and Dawn were in the kitchen, both eating a piece of left over pizza and chatting about their boyfriends. She hadn't known Sookie that long, but she could already see a noticeable difference in her - shoulders more relaxed, that little stress line between her eyes erased, the smile on her face more natural. It gave Buffy a pang of sadness to know this was the first time Sookie had ever gotten to just be normal. It wouldn't last, but Buffy was determined to give her a night of fun to remember.

Buffy and Willow joined them, the latter grabbing a piece of pizza for herself. Buffy glanced at the doorway, wondering what Eric was up to. She hadn't seen him since their little talk in the bathroom and she was starting to wonder if all that info had been a little too much in one go. That or maybe he was just avoiding Dawn…

She was just considering going to find him when she heard the front door open and Pam appeared seconds later.

"Tasty," she said as she stood in the entrance to the kitchen, eyeing the group at the table and not the pizza.

"Pam, you remember Willow," Buffy said, gesturing at her red-headed friend. "And this is my sister, Dawn."

Dawn was looking at Pam in obvious surprise – not that Buffy could blame her, Pam's cute pink dress with white cardigan and her ponytailed hair were as far from the vampire stereotype as you can get. Pam in turn was eyeing Dawn with a predatory smirk much more in line with what she was.

"Please don't hit on her, I don't think my brain can handle the mental picture that would kick up," Buffy pleaded.

Pam grinned at Buffy's matter-of-fact statement. "We'll see."

"Nice to see you again, Pam," Willow said with a little wave.

"A treat," Pam leered before turning her eyes back to Buffy. "Where's Eric? I need to speak with him then we can leave."

"Last I saw of him he was in the bathroom being totally weird."

Pam raised a curious eyebrow and drifted back down the hall. She came back a few minutes later, just as Buffy was cleaning up the kitchen.

"You need to go fix him before we can go," she said, sinking into Buffy's vacated chair.

She shot the vampire a questioning look as she tossed her crust in the garbage. "Fix him?"

"Yes, he needs to be at the bar tonight since I'll once again be absent. He can't work in the condition he's in. No one wants to pay to look at a mopey vampire."

"Huh?" Buffy grunted, totally not following this conversation at all.

Pam rolled her eyes. "I can't be certain, but from what I could get out of him the two of you talked of Dracula and you managed to destroy the heroic image he's mentally painted of him."

"Uh…. what?" Buffy asked, sticking to the oh-so-eloquent conversation skills that had gotten her this far.

"You've met Dracula?" Pam asked.

"Yes…"

"And you found him to be less than a shining pillar that all vampires should aspire to be?"

"Well, yeah, I guess. He's a total asshat."

Pam's lips twitched. "Eric's reveres that 'asshat'. He happens to hold a party at Fangtasia every year in his honor."

Ignoring Dawn's snorted "Fangtasia?", Buffy sighed and went to track down Eric. She found him still in the bathroom, sitting on the side of the tub where she'd left him.

"He's truly that horrible?" He asked quietly, eyes starting at the tile.

"Umm, well, yeah," she said, sitting down next to him.

She felt bad at inadvertently destroying this hero-worship thing he had going on. It was weird seeing the usually unflappable Eric so down. Hit by sudden inspiration, she bumped her shoulder against his to get his attention.

"But that's just _my_ Dracula. This is a different dimension. Yours is probably completely different."

"You think?" He asked, head tilting to the side as he seemed to perk up a bit.

"Totally. I don't know much about this dimension hopping thing, but it seems wrong to have two people in two different places that are exactly the same, right?"

"Yes, that doesn't seem quite right," Eric agreed with a nod, maybe a little too quickly, as if he were latching onto this much more appealing idea. "They're probably much different. Complete opposites, really."

Buffy nodded, smothering a grin and filing away Eric's crazy man-crush for later teasing and possibly blackmail.

"Okay the, now that that's all cleared up, you need to get ready for work," she said, hopping to her feet.

She was just as quickly pulled back down, this time onto Eric's lap. Someone was feeling better…

"How about we stay here," he suggested, nuzzling under her ear. "Let the rest of them go on their shopping trip - I have much more interesting ideas for the two of us."

The feeling of his hand sliding up her side made her just want to sigh out a yes and melt into him right there on the bathroom floor (she was still a little frustrated that they'd been interrupted by her sister and Willow the night before). But knowing that there were people upstairs waiting on her, one of whom had incredible vampy hearing, kind of put a damper on things.

"No can do," she said a little breathlessly. "I'd be a disgrace to women everywhere if I let a guy take precedence over a girl's night out."

His mouth was on hers without warning, a quick but intense meeting of lips and tongues.

"Being a disgrace has its perks," he purred.

Buffy was about to agree, that frustrated, incomplete feeling she'd been feeling since they'd slammed the brakes on the night before surging forward and making her feel hot and pliant. It was once again her sister, the eternal bucket of cold water, that snapped her out of it.

"Buffy! Get your butt moving!" Dawn yelled in that one tone that all younger siblings seem to be born with. "The rest of us are tired of sitting around waiting on you!"

Buffy gritted her teeth and closed her eyes, all her previous steamy feelings turning into annoyance on a grand scale.

"I think I would've escaped to a different dimension as well," Eric mused.

With a sigh, she peeled herself away from him and stood.

"We'll finish this when I get back," she promised, then fled before the sight of his darkening eyes could draw her in again.

The four others were already waiting in the entryway for her and Dawn snagged her by her sleeve and dragged her outside muttering about leaving before her hormones got the best of her again. It was obvious what they'd be driving once they got out there, something Buffy hadn't really given any thought to until that moment. But there was her SUV, waiting for them in the driveway.

"You're still driving my car?"

"I rather enjoy all the space," Pam said as she slipped into the driver's seat. "And I thought it might be convenient if we need to dispose of more bodies."

Willow and Dawn froze as they were getting into the back. Sookie paused, made a face, then gave the inside a sniff and a shrug before climbing in.

"Bodies?" Willow whispered.

"No, no more bodies. That was a one-time thing," Buffy said, shooting Pam a glare.

"Well, technically it was a two time thing," she answered seriously.

Dawn just shook her head at Buffy with a look that said "what am I going to do with you" before climbing in the back.

* * *

><p>Eric watched the SUV pull out of the drive, making a note of the license plate before he picked up his phone.<p>

"Bobby, they just left. Don't interfere, just keep an eye on them. No, just keep out of their way and keep me posted. No, I don't need to know every detail, just what you think is important. Use your common sense, Bobby. It's not that fucking difficult."

Eric hung up the phone and flicked on the shower, hoping this wouldn't prove to be too much for his assistant to handle. As much as he wanted to follow them himself, he knew Pam would sense him immediately, possibly Buffy as well. And letting them go off by themselves was out of the question - not after that little escapade in Bon Temps. Hopefully, his concern would be for nothing - their night would be an uneventful foray of shopping wonders and that was it. Somehow he doubted it though…

Eric had just taken his seat in Fangtasia an hour later when he got a text from Bobby.

_-No shopping yet. Stopped at a bar.-_

"Shit."

Because they weren't bad enough sober…

He debated a moment before peeking down the bond into Buffy's emotions. It actually took a tiny bit of effort this time, the bond was weakening. Reestablishing it more thoroughly was something he'd have to put some thought into - but that was for another time. For now, he closed his eyes and sought out Buffy and felt nothing but a light amusement. So far, so good. He pulled back.

Another hour went by and Eric shoved thoughts of the "girl's night" to the back of his mind. Business was good, they were busy but the crowd wasn't wild. Thalia was currently tending the bar. Far from an ideal solution, but it would have to do until he could find a replacement for Charles. She was surly but adept. He was making sure to keep an eye on her though, just to be sure she didn't maim anyone that annoyed her too much. But he was also thinking about the things Buffy had reviled to him earlier, putting things in order for closer examination. It had been a very illuminating conversation… Unfortunately, his musing was soon interrupted by another text from Bobby.

-_Girls were kicked out of dept. store. Argument between Pam and Buffy about which heel was best for stabbing, followed by an dramatic enactment, resulted in security being called. Leaving now-_

Eric stared down at the message for a second before shaking his head. He could actually imagine that - that was the scary part. The two of them squabbling in the middle of a department store over which shoe would puncture which vital organs satisfactorily and then acting it out. He'd hoped that the presence of Buffy's sister, her witch friend and Sookie would curb the ability Pam and Buffy seem to have of finding trouble anywhere, but apparently that had been an overly optimistic wish.

It was another hour before he got the next message.

_-Brunette and transvestite hooker got into a fight on east end. On the move again.-_

"What the hell?" He blurted, replying with an _-Explain- _

The answer took a few minutes.

_-far away but think hooker assumed girl was a fellow tranny-_

Eric let out a laugh that drew the attention of half the bar, but he didn't care. That was just too priceless. He could just imagine the look of outrage on Buffy's sister's face. Damn, he should've gone instead of sending Bobby…

After that, things were quiet. As the hours ticked by, he felt the tension in his shoulders loosening as his phone remained quiet. No news was good news, wasn't that what they said? He'd retired to his office to take a look at the numbers for the week when his phone rang. He stared at it for a second, dread creeping in as Bobby's name flashed across the screen. He answered.

"Bad news," Bobby said at once. "I lost them."

Eric sighed. "Where are you and in which direction were they headed?"

"Well, I'm in a parking garage. But I have no idea where they were headed because they locked me in the trunk of my car then left. That was about three hours ago. I just got out."

Eric literally couldn't form words for a moment he was so shocked. He wasn't sure whether he wanted to laugh or curse.

"I tried to track Pam's phone," Bobby added. "But I'm not sure if she canceled that one and got a new one or what, but I can't find her. If you give me Buffy's number, I can try again."

Eric gave it to him and hung up, but didn't hold much hope of him finding anything. It was likely that Buffy's phone had been provided by the Queen, meaning it would probably be hard to track. Plus, he was beginning to learn that Buffy never seemed to know where her phone was anyway. He was willing to bet it was in his house somewhere, or possibly even still at Sookie's. Sure enough, Bobby called back a few minutes later confirming that he couldn't find anything with Buffy's number either.

So, after drinking, getting kicked out of a store for pantomiming some kind of shoe murder, then getting into a fight with a transvestite hooker, they were now out there on their own. And had been for the last three hours.

Eric hung up on the apologetic Bobby and ran a hand down his face. He didn't think his imagination was vast enough to even guess at the trouble they were probably getting themselves into.


	38. Chapter 38

**Chapter Thirty-Eight**

"Shut up, Buffy!" Dawn yelled from the backseat. "It's not funny!"

But all Buffy could do was shake her head, because she was laughing too hard to draw in any breath to answer.

"I swear to everything that's holy I will climb over this seat and kick your ass if you don't stop laughing at me."

"It's your ginormous feet," Buffy finally managed to gasp. "And those heels! I told you not to buy them - they make you, like, seven feet tall…"

Then she couldn't speak anymore, because the outraged look on her sister's face when the transvestite started quizzing her about how she fought the battle against beard stubble suddenly popped back into her head and she bent double in her seat again, her eyes watering from the laughter.

There was a yelped, "Dawn!" from Willow, then her sister was suddenly climbing over the middle console from the back, swatting, pinching and hair pulling.

"I think we should stop for drinks," Pam suggested mildly from the driver's seat while Buffy easily fended off her sister's attack.

"We already did that, remember?" Sookie grunted, trying, along with Willow, to grab Dawn's kicking feet and drag her into the backseat.

"And that means we can't do it again?" Pam asked while moving her head slightly to avoid one of Dawn's flying elbows. "Besides, Dawn looks a little… stressed. I think she could use another drink."

"You were the one that got us kicked out of the last store," Dawn was bitching, ignoring the conversation going on around her as she went after Buffy. "We would've still been there shopping, but nooooo, you had to go and start in on how the Jimmy Choos could puncture a lung."

"It's not my fault the sales girl was overly sensitive, Danny- I mean, Dawnie," she snickered, making Dawn squeak in outrage. Dawn the transvestite - that was seriously never going to get old.

"Dawn, I think you're beautiful," Pam said, laying a hand on top of Dawn's head and making her go still. "And you absolutely don't look like a man - if you did, I wouldn't be so attracted to you."

That put a stop to Buffy from laughing, but on the up side, it also stopped Dawn from trying to pinch her to death.

"Really?" Dawn asked in an almost hopeful tone.

"Really," Pam nodded. "Now why don't you get back in your seat and we'll get on with our evening. I'm sure Buffy is done with her inappropriate teasing."

Pam gave her a narrowed eyed look, making Buffy roll her eyes and give a shrug. She would agree to stop - for now. There was just too much material there for her to let go of it forever.

Dawn gave Buffy one more lingering dirty look, then let Willow and Sookie pull her back into her seat.

"So, where to next?" Willow asked, obviously trying to smooth things over.

"Well, I was thinking another bar, but first, we need to take care of something else…" Pam said, looking in her rear view mirror.

"Something more important than drinking and shopping?" Dawn asked.

"We're being followed."

Everyone went quiet for a beat.

"For how long," Buffy asked seriously, looking in the side mirror but getting nothing back but the glare from other headlights.

"All night," Pam shrugged. "But with the way things are going, I think it's best we lose Bobby."

"Bobby?"

"Bobby Burnham, Eric's daytime assistant."

"Does he know it's not daytime?" Dawn snorted.

"Observant," Buffy muttered, earning a kick to the back of her seat. "Eric had us followed?"

And actually, when she thought about it, it wasn't really a surprise at all.

"Eric's probably just worried," Willow put in diplomatically.

"Or he's being a controlling ass," Sookie suggested just as calmly.

"Either way, I don't think we need an escort for tonight's festivities," Pam said, turning into a parking garage next to a mall. They watched Bobby drive by and park further down. Stealth definitely wasn't Mr. Burnham's strong suite.

"You can stay here," Pam said, getting out. "I'll be right back."

They watched Pam disappear behind a column and then zip up around another row of cars to where Bobby was parked. Well, Buffy watched anyway, given the way the other three were looking around, they hadn't been able to follow Pam's speed with their eyes.

"She's not going to kill him, right?" Willow asked sounding a little nervous.

"Nah," Buffy said, feeling almost eighty-five percent sure of that answer. She nodded to where Bobby was getting out of his car. "Watch."

Suddenly Pam was right there behind him, plucking his phone from his jacket pocket before he even knew what was happening. It only took her a few seconds to wrestle him into the trunk of his car, throw his phone in the front seat and then start back toward them with a smug smile on her face.

"Subtlety, thy name is _not_ Pam," Dawn giggled.

Buffy had a fleeting thought that she should have a problem with a vampire stuffing a human in a trunk, but it didn't last long and she was able to easily shrug it off. She wasn't sure if that was progress in her vampire-equality-morality-dilemma or not…

"Are you sure we should just leave him in there? Is there enough air?" Sookie asked when Pam got back in the car, getting a concerned hum of agreement from Willow.

"He'll be fine," Pam said, starting the car and shifting it into reverse. "He can put the back seat down from the trunk - I simply bent the latch a bit so it'll take some time for him to get it to move enough for him to squeeze out."

"Why would Eric want us followed anyway?" Willow asked.

Buffy fidgeted a little in her seat, not really wanting to answer that. Pam had no qualms about it though.

"Probably because when Buffy and I went out together yesterday, we killed two vampires, caught a murderer, broke into two places-"

"I only broke into one, you were on your own at Bill's," Buffy interrupted.

"-and then started a fire-"

"_You_ started a fire."

"Plus, Buffy got shot."

"Just grazed!"

"Oh, and we also almost got arrested," Pam added, lips twitching in an obvious attempt not to laugh. "It was a very enjoyable evening."

Buffy pinched the bridge of her nose.

"Oh… well, then, I can see why he'd want you followed then," Willow said awkwardly after a beat of silence.

Suddenly Dawn was up between the front seats again, pinching her like a deranged crab.

"_Shot?_ You got _shot?_"

"Yes, and luckily it's already healed or your big manly sausage fingers would've had it bleeding all over again," Buffy said, trying to shove her insane sister into the backseat. With a little help from Willow and Sookie, Dawn was eventually settled in the back with a foul look on her face.

"No wonder he has you followed. He should lock you up in a damned padded room," she sulked.

"But, Buffy's fine," Willow said, again trying to smooth things over with her optimistic tone. "She's been in way worse situations than that."

Pam raised a brow and glanced at Buffy curiously, Buffy looked out the window. It was only then she noticed they were headed for the freeway.

"Uh… Where are we going?"

"I was thinking we should go to New Orleans and finish our shopping spree there. The have exponentially more shopping choices, most open twenty-four hours given the high vampire population. Plus, Eric will be looking for us here once he finds out we ridded ourselves of Bobby…"

"You can shop twenty-four hours there?" Dawn asked, anger forgotten and replaced with awe as she leaned forward again - this time to look at Pam with wide eyes.

"Oh yes, little one. A veritable shopping Mecca," she answered with a benevolent smile.

"Don't you think you should, I don't know, _ask_ before dragging us on a drive to the other end of the state?" Buffy asked, irritated.

Honestly, she thought her attitude had more to do with how pissed Eric was going to be than with Pam suddenly springing a road-trip on them. They'd just started to work things out…

"You can be back in Shreveport before he rises tomorrow," Pam smirked knowingly.

Dawn made a whip-crack sound, earning her a shove from Buffy.

"Fine, fine," Pam laughed. "I'll ask if it will make you feel better. Is there anyone against going to New Orleans for the rest of the night?"

"I'm fine with it," Willow shrugged.

"Um, well… I was supposed to go over to Alcide's after we finished shopping," Sookie spoke up hesitantly.

"Oh, well, we'll just leave you here then," Pam said.

"Pam!" Both Buffy and Dawn scolded at the same time.

"You have to come with us," she heard Dawn wheedling in the back seat. "Weren't you saying how awesome it was not to have your telepathy? Well, it's going to all come back when you're not around me and I'm going home tomorrow." Buffy repressed a sigh of relief at that bit of information. "So this this like a once shot deal. You really want to end it _now_."

"I guess not," Sookie said slowly. "But I should at least call Alcide and let him know. Can I use one of ya'll's phones?"

"Don't have one," came Dawn's reply, followed by Willow's, "Me either."

"I… don't know where mine is," Buffy admitted thoughtfully. "I think it actually might still be at your house, Sook."

They all looked to Pam. "I broke mine trying to make it so Eric couldn't track me again."

"Oh, well I guess I can just call him when we get there," Sookie said.

"How long will it take to get there, anyway?" Dawn asked

"For-freaking-ever," Buffy groaned.

"Not with the way I drive," Pam grinned, pushing down harder on the gas pedal.

* * *

><p>They arrived in New Orleans just before two in the morning, and the first thing they did was stop at a bar - Pam insisting they were all entirely too sober after the long drive. They'd only meant to stop for a little while… That was over an hour ago.<p>

Buffy slipped sideways on her stool slightly and wobbly righted herself, looking at the guy standing next to her like he had grown two heads.

"Did you just say your name was _Hymen_?" She asked.

"_Herman_," he corrected, his face souring from the fake smile he'd had seconds before.

"There's actually people named Herman?" Dawn asked from a few seats down. "People that aren't, like, ninety or a serial killer?"

"He could be a serial killer," Pam noted, looking at Herman with renewed interest.

Herman looked like he was about to deny that, but they were distracted from his rebuttal by Sookie.

"How many times do I have to tell you - _I'm not interested_," she was saying to a bulky blond guy who was totally up in her personal bubble.

"Come on, sweetie-"

"We need an order of steel wool pubes over here," Buffy called out with a wave at the skeevy guy hitting on Sookie.

"Coming right up," a cheerfully drunk Willow answered from a few seats down.

There was a beat of silence, then Buffy watched in amusement as the guy's eyes went wide and he choked out an "Excuse me" before shuffling away.

"You _have_ to teach me how to do that," Dawn said in awe, turning to Willow.

"Did she really just…" Sookie asked, still watching the blond moving awkwardly through the crowd.

"Yep," Buffy grinned. "Don't worry it's not permanent."

_Probably_…

Sookie laughed and shook her head. "This night has just been insane."

"Uh, yeah, sorry about that," Buffy said. "I wanted you to have a normal girl's night out since your brain mojo was on the fritz. I should've known that was impossible with this group. We haven't even done any actual shopping yet…"

"I don't think I'd know what to do with normal anyway," Sookie laughed. "And I don't really have any money for shopping, so that doesn't bother me - I just wanted to hang out with you guys."

"Now isn't that the sweetest thing you've ever heard," Pam said, sidling up next to them and slipping an arm around Sookie. "Did she ever tell you about the time we went to an orgy together?"

Buffy sprayed half her shot on the bar and coughed as some of it went down the wrong pipe.

"Please don't," she rasped before Pam could divulge any details.

"-make me a ring like Buffy's?" She heard from her sister on her other side, catching her attention and sending her spinning on her stool, still coughing slightly.

"Um, well, see… I could, but-"

"Rubber nurses uniform," Buffy coughed out with a glare at Willow, making her eyes go wide.

"-but it would cause one of the worlds to end," Willow blurted. "There has to be a certain balance and Buffy's sucked up all the… balancing… energy…"

God, it was a good thing her sister was drunk, Buffy thought as she watched Dawn nod her head in apparent understanding.

A half an hour later they'd left the bar and actually got to a store - one they actually bought things in and didn't get kicked out of. Buffy was lugging three bags toward the car with no memory of what she'd bought except for a dress for Sookie.

"Think of it as rent," she'd slurred as she paid for it over Sookie's objections.

"You were only there a day," Sookie had answered, her swaying taking away from the reasonable point she was trying to make.

Other than that, she wasn't sure what the hell she'd bought - but she was drunk enough that she didn't care. Dawn, on the other hand, was rambling on about every purchase she'd made a few steps behind Buffy - showing her purchases to random people passing by.

"Nobody wants to see what underwear you bought," Buffy said, shaking her head as she heard her sister going on about pink lace.

"That homeless guy looked pretty interested," Willow laughed.

"Dawn! Don't show your undies to hobos!" Buffy scolded, shooting her sister a look she'd learned from their mother.

"I'd like to see your 'undies'," Pam purred to Dawn.

Buffy blocked out the rest of that conversation.

They made it back to the car with only a few drunken mishaps - Dawn tripping on her heels and Willow running into a light pole. Sookie managed not to hurt herself, but she couldn't seem to stop laughing. Pam… Pam was annoyingly sober, even though Buffy'd seen her down just as many shots as Buffy herself had. Apparently vampires had a higher tolerance for alcohol than Slayers - how unfair was _that_?

After stuffing their purchases in the back of the SUV, they all clamored inside (Dawn hitting her shin and bitching up a storm) with Pam driving. When Buffy asked if she was okay to drive, the look Pam gave her could've stripped paint - like she was insulted that anyone would think that little bit of alcohol would somehow impair her. Buffy stuck her tongue out.

"Where to now?" Sookie asked as Buffy snapped on her seatbelt and Pam pulled out of the parking space.

"No more bars," Buffy said.

"No, no more bars," Pam agreed, glancing in the rearview mirror at the three drunkenly half-lidded faces back there. "There are a few more stores we can fit in before the sun rises."

Three turns later, Buffy realized she recognized the area.

"Hey! That's where I first came into this world," Buffy said, pointing at the familiar cemetery.

Dawn giggled. "You sound like you were born there."

"Let's stop and look," Willow said.

"What for?" Dawn asked.

"Because I think I need some fresh air," Willow said in a stilted way that made Buffy whip around in her seat.

"You had _so_ better not puke on me," Dawn said seriously, eyeing the green tinged Willow warily.

"Right, a walk in the cemetery is a great idea," Buffy nodded quickly. Her stomach was starting to feel sloshy just thinking about being stuck in there with a puking Willow. "Pam. Park. Now."

Pam pulled over by the back entrance to the cemetery and Willow scrambled out. She stood with one hand braced against the entrance to the cemetery, taking deep breaths while the rest of them got out.

"Okay?" Buffy asked, putting a hand on Willow's shoulder.

"Think so," Willow nodded, straightening up. "I feel better now that we're out of the car."

"Let's take that walk then. I think we could all use the fresh air," Sookie said joining them with Dawn and Pam following.

"Good idea," Buffy agreed, leading the way through the gate.

Honestly, they all needed to sober up. The rational part of her was whispering in the back of her mind about how eventually things would get ugly with them all being drunk and wandering the city. Pam was the only one whose judgment wasn't soaked in alcohol and her judgment was sketchy anyway.

The night was nice, warmer here than it had been in Shreveport, with a light breeze. Dawn was laughing at something behind her, crickets were chirping merrily, the chanting on the wind was-

Wait… chanting?

"Oh _hell_ no," Buffy muttered, déjà vu washing over her.

Her head jerked toward the sound, the direction it was coming from painfully familiar. She took off at a run, hearing and ignoring Dawn's startled, "Buffy?" and Pam's unconcerned "I think she'd about to ruin someone's night."

At the top of the little crest overlooking Marie Laveau's tomb, Buffy's drunken brain struggled to put the scene in front of her together. It took her longer than it should have to recognize the players she was rushing toward, or one of them at least.

Standing in front of the crypt, reading the chant off of a piece of paper, was the dark haired girl with the bad attitude that had burst into the meeting between her and Sophie-Anne all that time ago. Buffy couldn't remember her name, but it hardly mattered at the moment because there was the freakiest looking vamp behind her pulling a stake from his pocket.

Tall, wrinkly and such a pale white it bordered on gray, he invoked long buried memories of The Master. She'd been more concerned with stopping whatever magic they were trying to work when she'd first heard the chanting, but she found herself veering toward the creepier of the two out of instinct, pulling Mr. Pointy out as she went.

She was too far away, any element of surprise was totally lost. The vampires noticed her well before she reached them - the girls chanting cutting off and the other one crouching and giving a low, deadly hiss. He was more than ready for her by the time she reached him - deflecting her blow and flipping her over his shoulder. She managed to actually land on her feet (which was more luck than skill seeing as the world was dipping and swaying around her) and turned in time to block his stake with her own as he swung it toward her, sending both pieces of wood flying out of their hands. She didn't waste time trying to go after it, instead opting to punch him in the face. His head snapped back and he stumbled away, but sprang back at her a second later, knocking her to the ground and pouncing on top. She jammed her forearm into his neck to keep his snapping teeth from her face, and then shoved, trying to get a little space between them.

There was a sudden familiar squelching sound and the vamps eyes went wide. He opened his mouth and gave a breathy grunt, then vomited blood and nastiness all over Buffy's chest and neck.

Buffy just blinked in shock for a moment before gagging and shoving the convulsing body off of her, leaving her a clear view of her sister backing away from the mess with Mr. Pointy in her hand.

"What the hell, Dawn?" Buffy snapped, gesturing at the slimy mess.

"How was I supposed to know vamps here barf before they die? You're welcome by the way."

"Oh yes, thanks for covering me in gooey liquefied vamp insides."

"Oh god-" She heard Willow begin, then there was a heave and a splash.

Buffy's stomach rolled as she got to her feet and stomped over to Dawn, snatching away Mr. Pointy and shoving him back in her pocket.

"You were taking too long," Dawn shrugged. "If you'd just killed him instead of playing around-"

There was a sudden _whoosh_ and a blast of heat, making them whip around. The vampire had become an inferno and next to him stood Pam with a box of matches and a little can of lighter fluid.

"I came prepared this time," she said with a fangy grin.

Willow groaned and threw up again just as the smell of burning skin and hair reached Buffy.

Her stomach clenched and her throat worked. "Oh crap…"

Buffy had no idea how long she heaved, it seemed like it went on forever. She knew that the other vamp, the one that had been doing the chanting, was still there somewhere, but that seemed secondary to the fact she was puking her stomach inside out. Every time she'd thought it was over something would set her off again - she'd hear Willow, her fellow vomit-victim; get a whiff of her own puke; feel a line of vampire slime sliding down her shirt; hear the snap and pop of burning fat. She was weak and shaky by the time she was done. No more drinking. Ever.

She slowly got to her feet and looked around, eyes barely skimming over the smoldering corpse of the wrinkled vamp and finding the group had relocated further into the cemetery. Pam and Dawn were sitting on a tombstone and the vamp girl whose name she didn't know and Sookie were a ways off talking - or more accurately arguing, judging from the hand waving and finger pointing. She didn't see Willow until she'd almost reached Pam and Dawn - she was lying on the ground behind the stone.

"What's the what with that?" She rasped, plopping down near them and gesturing toward Sookie and familiar vampire chick.

Dawn tossed her a piece of gum while not taking her eyes off the two in the distance. "Guess they're cousins or something. Hadley, that's her name, bailed on the family a while back and they hadn't heard from her in years. Pam's been giving me the play by play since I can't hear them."

"Cousins, huh? Small world," Buffy said, popping the gum in her mouth. "What was up with the chanting?"

"Waldo, the crispy vamp, convinced her that she was related to Marie Laveau and could raise her ghost to ask her questions. But he was lying, it was just a trick to get her out here and kill her," Dawn answered like she was watching a soap opera and needed some popcorn.

Buffy opened her mouth to ask more, but then decided she really didn't care. Instead, she turned her gaze on Willow's prone form.

"How ya feeling, Will?"

"Urgggg," Willow groaned from her place on the grass, an arm flung over her eyes.

"I hear ya'," Buffy said, looking down at herself and curling up her lip in disgust.

"Hey, Sook," she called loudly. "Sorry to interrupt the family reunion, but I _really_ need a shower and a change of clothes."

Sookie looked over and then exchanged a few more quiet words with Hadley before the two made their way back to the group.

"So, uh, I think I'm going to go with Hadley," Sookie said.

"Are you sure that's safe?" Buffy asked bluntly, eying the vampire suspiciously.

"Safer than running around with Sophie's errand girl," Hadley bit out. "Couldn't even take out Waldo, for fucks sake. Should stick to getting coffee or whatever the hell it is you do around there."

"Getting- I kept him from staking you in the back!"

Jeez, she'd saved her life. Or her un-life. Whatever. Was it too much to ask for a little civility?

Hadley just rolled her eyes and crossed her arms like Buffy's words weren't even worth the effort to form a reply.

"Sookie will be fine," Pam said, standing up and brushing out the nonexistent wrinkles from her clothes. "Hadley's not stupid enough to allow any harm to come to her."

There was no mistaking the threat in Pam's words or in the feral smile she shot at Hadley.

"I'll be fine," Sookie said quickly over Hadley's forming snarl. "I'll call you in the morning."

"Except none of us have phones," Willow said from her place on the ground, her logical brain apparently still functioning despite her imitation of a corpse.

"We'll go to my apartment," Buffy said. "You know the number there right?"

"I can get the damn number," Hadley huffed out. "Let's go already."

"Uh, right," Sookie said, then rushed forward and hugged Dawn of all people. "It was really nice meeting you. Look me up the next time you come visit, we'll go out again."

"Sure," Dawn said, looking ridiculously pleased with herself.

"See ya', Buffy," Sookie called, waving as she trotted after Hadley's retreating figure.

Buffy just threw her arms out and shook her head. Was it too much to ask for a little appreciation? She'd had a heroic few days!

"Knowing your actions saved lives should be more than enough thanks, Buffy," Pam snickered, apparently knowing what was running through Buffy's mind.

"Bite me," Buffy snarled.

"Gladly," Pam purred.

"Quit flirting," Dawn said. "Let's go already. I wanna see your place."

Something in the back of her mind whispered that there was something at home she didn't want to deal with, but she couldn't remember what at the moment…

* * *

><p>Her shower shared dimensional space with Heaven. It had to, there was no other way it could be this freaking amazing and only be of this world. It chased away all her worries about Eric and the Wolfram and Hart spell and whatever was bothering her about being back at her apartment. It also chased away the puke smell and all vampire nastiness clinging to her. Seriously, she loved this shower.<p>

Deciding she'd hung out in there long enough, she gave a sad sigh and left her divine shower. Dressed in a pair of sleep shorts and a cami, she wandered back into her bedroom towel drying her hair - it was then she realized that her bed was in one piece. Now that she thought about it, the whole place had been back to normal when they walked in. No sex destroyed furniture or holes in the wall or ripped up tile that she remembered leaving behind just days ago. Eric had said he'd get someone to fix the damage, but this was just freaky.

She shook her head, relieved to have found the answer to what had been bothering her, and threw her towel into the hamper. Opening the bedroom door, she almost ran smack into Willow.

"Just for the record, I totally knew your sister was bi," she slurred, stumbling past Buffy and collapsing on her bed.

Buffy crinkled her nose at that completely random statement before shaking it off. She contemplated chasing Will into the shower, she wasn't smelling too sweet herself after her barf-fest in the cemetery, but decided it was too much trouble and left her be, heading instead to the living room to track down Dawn and Pam.

She really wished she'd stayed in her bedroom when she found her sister and the vampire tangled together on the couch making out.

For a second, she just stared in horror, desperately trying to convince herself this was just a drunken hallucination. Or maybe she'd passed out in the shower and hit her head. A kind of questioning high pitched squeak slipped from her throat.

Pam, face looking politely questioning and fangs on display, looked over at her.

"Ah, hello, Buffy. You look much better."

It took Buffy another few seconds to find her voice.

"Dawn!" She choked. "What the _hell_?"

"What? You're the only Summers' woman that can have a thing for blond vamps with an accent?"

"Uh, yes, actually."

Dawn snorted and wiggled against Pam spitefully.

"I can't let you take advantage of my drunken sister," Buffy said, turning her attention to Pam instead. Trying to ignore the fact that it was Dawn climbing all over Pam instead of the other way around.

"She's the one taking advantage of me," Pam said. "Me and my inability to turn down a pretty face."

"Pretty face," Dawn said, pointing at herself with a smug grin.

"Dawn, you'll hate me and yourself in the morning if you do this. You don't like vampires _or_ women, you're just drunk."

"Jeez, lighten up, Buffy," Dawn said with an eye roll. "My first kiss was with a vampire, remember? And it's not the first time I kissed with a girl either. Hell, I made-out with Kennedy once."

"You _what_?" Willow's voice came from the bedroom, followed by a thump and a scramble before a mussed Willow appeared in the doorway.

"It was during Christmas last year - blame the mistletoe."

"Ah ha, that Dawn, what a kidder," Buffy fake laughed ushering Willow back into the bedroom before she tried some drunken scorned lover magic (although having Dawn turned into a newt would solve this problem pretty handily…).

"Don't you have a boyfriend?" Buffy tried reasoning. "Won't he be mad if he finds out you cheated on him?"

Dawn snorted. "The only thing Gino would be mad about was if I was too drunk to remember the details of me making out with another girl so I could tell him all about it later. And I'm _not_ that drunk. Need I remind you _I_ wasn't the one puking her guts out in the cemetery? Lightweights…"

With that they went back to kissing, completely dismissing Buffy. She stood there for a moment, torn between leaving them be and tearing them apart. Finally a breathy moan from Dawn freaked her into motion and she ran out the front door.

She leaned against the door for a moment and gave a full body shudder, taking a minute to try to desperately repress the memory of the last few minutes of her life. Once the horror had died down a little, she realized she was standing in the hall in her jammies with nowhere to go. She turned and grabbed the handle to her door, but stopped short of turning it. Oh god, what would she walk in on if she went back in there _now_? She snatched her hand back like the doorknob had burnt her. She'd sleep in the hall before she risked seeing her sister and Pam- No, no, no, repress, repress, repress.

She found herself pacing the hall, trying to think of what to do next. But instead, her still alcohol soaked brain kept finding the paintings lining the walls of more interest. She was studying one near the end of the hall, an abstract filled with red strokes that looked oddly sensual to Buffy's untrained eye, when the elevator door dinged right next to her.

She had a moment to be mortified about meeting one of her neighbors in the hall while wearing her pajamas before the door opened, revealing Rasul.

Oh yeah… _that_ was why she'd been avoiding coming back to her apartment…

He looked just as surprised as she felt before his face slipped into a blank mask and he stepped out of the elevator.

She turned to face him more fully, wobbling a bit as she did so and rubbing the back of her neck uncomfortably.

"Uh, hey there, neighbor."

He studied her for a second before raising an eyebrow.

"You're back," he said flatly. "And… drunk?"

"Very," Buffy nodded. "To both. Both very back and very drunk."

His face softened slightly. "And why are you in the hall?"

"My sister-" She shuddered. "Ugh, I can't talk about it. Let's just say there are some things sisters should see other sisters doing and me and my sister have trampled all across that line the last couple days."

"You have a sister? And she's here?" He asked in surprise, looking past her toward her apartment in curiosity.

"Yeah, I'd introduce you but… her and Pam…" She shook her head again. Thinking of little sisters and their sex lives was just… no. Just no.

Rasul broke out into his familiar mischievous grin, making something in Buffy loosen and ache at the same time. She'd really missed him…

"Well, let's go see what they're up to," he teased, grabbing her wrist and pulling her down the hall.

"You're such an ass," she laughed, pulling out of his grip. "No way am I going back in there."

"You can stay at my place," he said, his tone teasing but his voice low and eyes dark.

And there was the problem…

"So, I guess we should talk," she said stiltedly, suddenly glad for the alcohol that was making her feel slightly removed from the moment. "About, you know, before I left…"

Rasul gave a sigh and looked over her shoulder, hands sliding into his pockets.

"I was out of line," he said quietly before meeting her eyes intently. "Don't get me wrong, I don't regret it. Not a single second. But that doesn't mean I wasn't out of line."

"You're my best friend," Buffy said, looking at her feet and feeling a flash of panic at the realization that she loved him just as much as she loved Willow or Xander. "I'm not… I'm not trying to just brush off how you feel, and it wasn't that the kiss wasn't nice. It was. Really nice actually. But this whole thing with Eric is… well, I don't know what it is, but I like him. A lot. I don't want to ruin what we have and I don't want to lose him. And, damn this would be easier to explain if I wasn't wasted…"

Rasul let out a sad chuckle and rested his hand on top of her head, ruffling her damp hair slightly.

"I understand. Honestly, I understood before I even kissed you. Doesn't mean I'm going to stop wanting you or hating Northman, but I understand."

"So, where does that leave us?" She asked, looking up at him as his hand dropped from her head.

"Don't know," he shrugged. "We'll just have to see. But for now, there _is_ a problem we can resolve."

He was smirking when he pulled her further down the hall until they were standing about ten feet from her apartment door.

"So, your apartment's been taken over by guests has it?" He asked, his voice a little louder than usual. "Well that's easily solved - you can stay with me."

She opened her mouth to ask him what he was doing, but suddenly he was in her personal space - hard body pressed up against hers, the material of his work uniform brushing against her bare arms and legs. He leaned down, lips just inches from hers. She found herself frozen and wide eyed…

"I'll make you forget all about what's going on in there. In my bed, screaming my name as I-"

The door to her apartment flew open so fast that Buffy was surprised the hinges didn't break. Pam stood there, hair wild and fangs on display, hissing at Rasul.

"Step away from her," she growled furiously.

"I was just offering some hospitality," he grinned shamelessly, not moving an inch. "Where else is she to go with you defiling her apartment?"

"I was just leaving," Pam said after a beat, tossing an apologetic look over her shoulder as Dawn yelled "_What?_"

"You don't have to _leave_," Buffy said, suddenly feeling a little bad. "The sun's almost up."

Rasul tossed her an exasperated look before rolling his eyes. "Fine, she can stay with me. I have a spare room and your place isn't exactly daytime vampire friendly."

"Oh yeah," Buffy said, remembering her huge windows and gauzy white curtains.

He walked over to his door and unlocked it.

"Ladies first," he said pushing it open with a flourish and waving Pam in.

She hesitated a second, looking like she'd swallowed something foul before giving a little growl and stalking past him into the apartment.

Buffy smothered her laughter as Rasul gave her a wink and followed Pam inside. She just hoped Pam didn't stake the sneaky bastard…

She was about to turn and go into her own apartment when his door opened again and he darted out, pulling her to him for a quick kiss that left her blinking in surprise.

"Just because I understand doesn't mean I'm going to make it easy on you," he said with an unrepentant grin before disappearing back into his apartment.


	39. Chapter 39

**Chapter Thirty- Nine**

Buffy woke up to the sun shining through the large windows of the living room. The thin white curtains doing nothing to curb the glare beating down on the loveseat she was curled up on. She thought about putting the pillow over her face and just going back to sleep, but her bladder was complaining now that she was awake. Plus her mouth tasted like she'd licked the inside of a dumpster. Gross…

Untangling herself from the brightly colored throw covering her, she glanced over at Dawn, sprawled out on the couch with her mouth hanging open. She wished she knew where her phone was so she could snap a picture… Oh well.

After going to the bathroom, she checked to make sure Willow hadn't Hendrixed herself sometime in the night, then headed for the kitchen. Her stomach protested the thought of food, but she thought she should put _something_ in there, so she grabbed a box of crackers to go with her water and aspirin.

Leaving those hangover supplies on the counter in case the others got up and went wandering around, she then made her way back to the living room, ready to resume her position on the loveseat. She was almost there when the telephone caught her eye. It sat there innocently on its little table by the wall, mocking her sudden apprehension. Telling herself to quit being a baby, she marched over and dialed Eric's number.

Not surprisingly, being daytime and all, she got his voicemail.

"Uh, hey, it's me. I'm in New Orleans… So, yeah, there's that… Um… I'm at my apartment now, so if you want to call me that's where I'll be… For a while… Bye."

She hung up and rolled her eyes halfway before her headache stopped her from completing the action. What an idiotic message. She'd meant to apologize for not making it back last night like she'd said she would, for not having her phone, for not calling before now, for locking his assistant in his trunk, but somehow, none of that made it out.

Part of her felt like she shouldn't _have_ to apologize. What were her and Eric anyway? Was there an actual relationship there? Did she have to explain her actions? Feel bad when he wasn't included in her decisions? She wasn't sure. Another part of her said it would be stupid to say she was sorry given Eric's personality - he had enough of a sense of superiority without her kowtowing to him.

Ugh, this was making her brain hurt. She was in no mood to contemplate Eric and his motives. Pushing him out of her mind, she went back into the living room and curled on the loveseat again.

The next time she woke, the light was just as bright as before, only orange tinted this time. She could hear the shower running on one end of the apartment and someone shuffling around in the kitchen on the other. She debated the pros and cons of being lazy for a while longer, but a growl from her stomach was the deciding vote on getting up. In the kitchen she found Willow, hair damp and wearing some of Buffy's clothes, making scrambled eggs.

"Food?" Willow asked, glancing at Buffy as she hopped up on the kitchen counter.

"Yes, please," she answered with an emphatic nod. "Guess you're feeling better…"

"Much. I guess it was you that left the aspirin and the crackers out earlier?"

Buffy nodded and twisted around to pull some plates out from the cabinet behind her.

"That helped. Plus sleep and the shower. I think once I eat I might actually feel human again. Oh, and never drinking again, by the way."

Buffy snorted as she slid off the counter to see if she had any juice in the fridge. "You and me both."

She thought about all the insanity of the night before as she reached in for a bottle of orange juice. Arguments about the lethality of a shoe, killing vamps and getting rid of a tail were all pretty standard fare for a day in the life of Buffy. But Rasul making it clear he wasn't giving up on his romantic pursuit and Dawn having a make-out session with Pam were a bit above and beyond her normal level of weird. She froze as she was pulling the OJ from the fridge, suddenly remembering her sister revealing having kissed Kennedy.

She straightened up, trying to keep her face blank as she went for the glasses, asking in what she hoped sounded like nothing more than perfectly innocent curiosity, "So, what do you remember from the night before? Things are kinda hazy on my end…"

"I was hoping _you_ could fill _me_, in," Willow groaned as she started piling eggs on the plates. "I remember the bar, some of the shopping, but that's patchy… Something about a cemetery where I think there was throwing-up involved… and that's about it.

Buffy suppressed a sigh of relief. That explained why her sister was showering instead of getting cursed to death. Normally she'd be fine with tattling on Kennedy, but not if meant Dawn would get turned into something boil-covered or bug-like.

"We just came back here after the cemetery. I think you just went to bed."

"Oh, good," Willow sighed, grabbing her plate and her glass of juice as Buffy did the same and heading for the dining room. "I was worried I'd embarrassed myself. Well, more than just by throwing up all over…"

Dawn joined them a minute later, hair up in a towel and wearing Buffy's favorite shirt. Of course she'd pick _that_ one to leave in even though Buffy had bought her all kinds of clothes last night…

As Buffy watched her get her plate of food and join them, chatting about how hangovers never seemed to bother her, Buffy wondered if Dawn remembered anything from the night before. She seemed pretty carefree for someone whose sister had seen her up close and personal with another woman and who had admitted to kissing a friend's girlfriend before. Then she saw the slightly relieved look that slid over Dawn's face when Willow replied easily, no hint of anger or awkwardness, and realized Dawn remembered perfectly well what had happened. She'd just better hope the details of that night never came back to Willow…

After they'd all eaten and sat around talking for a few minutes, Dawn and Willow agreed it was time to get going. Goodbyes and hugs were traded (made difficult by the bags loading down her sister's arms), Dawn said she'd definitely come back to visit Buffy soon - which Buffy cut off at the knees by saying she'd be getting back to work soon, but _she'd_ come visit _Dawn_ when she had some more free time. Buffy wanted to tell Willow she'd let her know when she found something about the elusive Wolfram and Hart blocking spell, but didn't dare do it in front of Dawn. After a final round of waving, the two disappeared with a skin tingling zap of power and the smell of ozone.

Buffy flopped down on the couch with a relieved sigh, feeling exhausted from the impromptu visit. She was just about to drift off into what she thought was a well-earned nap, when the shrill ringing of the phone blasted through the apartment.

"Nooooo," Buffy whined as she rolled off the couch and pulled herself slowly to her feet.

"What?" She answered, sounding like a petulant ten year old but not caring in the least.

There was silence for so long on the other end, Buffy was about to snap at them to get on with it, but then Eric's voice came over the line, freezing her mouth in a little "o" of surprise.

"Don't you just sound like a ray of sunshine this evening."

Oh crap… How had she forgotten she'd asked him to call her back?

"Uhhh… Sorry, hangover," she mumbled. "Listen, I'm really sorry about not making it back last night. Things got a little… crazed."

"So Bobby tells me," he answered lightly. "Well, from what he saw until he was locked in the truck of his car."

Buffy cringed. "Yeah, sorry about that, too…"

"You're in New Orleans?"

His nonchalant tone was making her wary - he seemed completely fine with the turn of events. Tentatively, she searched for the bond, surprised she had to look for a moment before finding it - then wishing she hadn't. A low simmering anger, carefully leashed, hummed there.

"Yeah, Pam suggested it - more shopping options-"

"And no way for me to know what you were up to."

"You don't need to know what we're doing anyway," Buffy shot back. So maybe she was a little inconsiderate with just disappearing like that, that didn't mean she needed a chaperone or something.

"Given the trouble you and Pam seem to find, I think it best someone sane _does_ know what you're doing," he said, some of his irritation slipping past his carefree mask. "Did the two of you at least manage not to kill and burn anyone?"

Buffy bit her lip and stayed silent, prompting a low surprised curse in some other language from Eric.

"Well, technically Dawn killed him and Pam set him on fire… I was just there," Buffy defended.

"Completely innocent, I'm sure."

"Hey, I managed to save someone's life." Well, un-life… "And I reunited two long lost cousins." By accident.

"Why do I feel that there's more to that than you're saying?"

"Paranoia?'

"Doubtful," he said, then sighed. "Will you be back tonight?"

"Uh, yeah, I just need to get Pam." If she and Rasul hadn't killed each other. "And Sookie." If her cousin hadn't eaten her last night. Buffy suddenly felt really tired.

"They're not there?"

"Nope. So listen, I better go get them. I'll see you when we get back, 'kay?"

Eric was silent for a moment, obviously wanting details and annoyed he wasn't going to get any.

"Fine. I'll be at Fangtasia."

The click in Buffy's ear was loud. Yeah, that could've gone better. She was starting to realize that if she and Eric were going to make this work then his control freak nature and her… well, her own control freak nature, would need to find a way to coexist. He was used to having all the answers and she was used to answering to no one.

Before she could think more on that, the front door slammed open, the doorknob punching a hole in the wall behind it. Buffy sighed and made a mental note to send the maintenance guys a fruit basket or something. Pam stalked through the open door and whipped it closed with such force that one corner of the large cherry blossom painting came loose, swinging precariously before Buffy jumped over to right it.

"That man is _infuriating_," she hissed, her usually almost unnoticeable English accent coming out full force. "How can you possibly be friends with him?"

It took Buffy a moment to realize she was talking about Rasul.

"I could ask you the same thing about Eric," she said with a snort at Pam's sour look. "Rasul's fun once you get to know him. Really."

"_Fun_? He's an idiot. I tried to explain to him how ill-advised it was for him to be playing these games with you when you so obviously belong to Eric-"

"Hey, I don't _belong_-"

"And he laughed! _Laughed!_ Then said that if you were so attached to Eric, then I had nothing to worry about. And he said in this mocking, smarmy voice-"

Pam bit off her words and sent such an intense dirty look toward Rasul's apartment that Buffy was briefly worried that Pam had the ability to explode things with her mind.

"He was just messing with you," Buffy said. "He could tell it made you mad and probably thought it was funny."

"He's in love with you," Pam said, turning that intense stare at Buffy. "He wants you as his own."

"He just said that stuff in the hall last night to get your attention," Buffy said, dropping her eyes

"That doesn't make the sentiment behind his words any less true."

Buffy rolled her eyes, suddenly tired of this conversation. "I can't police Rasul's feelings, alright? He feels how he feels."

"You could tell him you're with Eric and his feelings mean nothing."

"We've talked about it, Pam," Buffy said in exasperation. "And I'd really rather you not mention any of this to Eric. Starting a war between the two of them won't help anything."

"It would if that guard ended up dead," Pam muttered, but without any real venom.

Before Buffy could respond to that, the phone was ringing again. God, she really hoped it wasn't Eric again… And then she felt bad for feeling that way. It was just that she really wasn't in the mood for another argument with him.

"Answer that, will you?" Buffy asked, walking toward her bedroom instead of toward the phone. "I need to get changed."

Ten minutes later she came out to find Pam on the couch flipping through channels.

"That was Sookie," Pam said, turning the TV off and tossing the remote on to the couch as she stood. "She gave me directions to her cousin's home so that we could pick her up."

Buffy let out a sigh of relief that was immediately caught by Pam's sharp eyes.

"Expecting a call from someone else?"

"Eric called earlier…" Buffy admitted as she headed for the door. "The conversation didn't really end on a high note."

They both stepped out into the hall and Pam gave her a slightly apologetic look.

"I think maybe I'm to blame for that. If I hadn't incapacitated Bobby or suggested we go to New Orleans-"

"Nah," Buffy shook her head. "I mean, that _was_ the reason for the fight, but there's underlying issues there. I don't really like answering to people and he-

"Is a controlling asshole," Rasul finished for her as he stepped out into the hall behind them, unknowingly echoing Sookie's words from the night before.

Pam's eyes had narrowed, whether at his appearance or his words, Buffy wasn't sure, then she growled lowly as he marched up to them and threw and arm around Buffy's shoulders as he walked with them down the hall.

"Quit antagonizing her," Buffy said, rolling her eyes and shoving his arm off.

Rasul gave a shrug and didn't try and put his arm back, but walked close enough that he brushed against her with every step.

"We don't need an escort, guard," Pam said.

"On my way to work," he replied, bumping against Buffy. "You're leaving again?"

"Yes, we're headed back to Shreveport," Pam answered with a smirk. "Where her lover is waiting for her return."

Rasul's face remained impassive, but Buffy could see the minute tightening of his shoulders. The ride down to the parking garage was blanketed with an awkward silence. Well, awkward between her and Rasul - Pam just looked smug. Buffy wanted to say something to dispel the tension, but really, what _could_ she say? She _was_ on her way back to Shreveport where Eric was waiting for her…

Rasul gave her a slight wave and a distracted smile before he headed off to his car. Buffy had the odd feeling he seemed more thoughtful than actually jealous…

Twenty minutes later Pam swung the SUV into the circular drive of a white, two story, L shaped building. Buffy barely noticed the details - she was more stuck on the fact that Amelia was sweeping the walkway leading to the lower floor entrance.

"Amelia?" She asked, hopping out of the car.

"Buffy!" Amelia grinned, which turned a little lascivious when she saw Pam. "What are you two doing here?"

"Us? What are _you_ doing here?"

Amelia peeled her eyes off Pam and looked at Buffy in confusion. "Uh, I _live_ here."

"Crap, did we get the wrong place?" Buffy asked Pam.

"No, I'm sure this is where Sookie told us to go. The description of the building matches perfectly."

"Are you looking for Hadley?" Amelia asked, sounding surprised.

"Yeah, actually. You know her?" Buffy asked.

"Sure, she rents the top floor," she said, pointing at the green door upstairs. "I live here on the bottom."

"Small world," Buffy said with a headshake. Then it occurred to her that this was perfect, she'd needed to talk to Amelia anyway. "Pam, why don't you go grab Sook, I need to ask Amelia about something."

Pam gave Buffy a half curious, half suspicious look before finally nodding her acquiescence and heading for the stairs.

"I thought you were out of town," Amelia said, walking over to lean her broom against the wall.

"I was. My sister and a friend came by and we had a little girl's night out. Things got a little crazy and we ended up here."

"And you didn't call me?" Amelia pouted, making Buffy cringe in guilt. If she found out that Willow had been there, she'd _really_ be upset.

"I'm sorry, we didn't really plan on coming here and we didn't even get here until around two. Next time we go out, I swear, you'll be the first one I call."

Amelia huffed, but nodded anyway. "What was it you need to ask me about?"

Buffy shot a glance upstairs to see Pam was talking to someone in the open doorway of Hadley's apartment and motioned with her head for Amelia to follow her back toward the road a little, not wanting Pam to overhear.

Amelia followed along, her interest obviously piqued at the secrecy.

"Okay, so this is kind of a big deal. A _really_ big deal actually, so I need you to swear, _swear_, you won't repeat any of this."

"I swear."

"Swear it on your witchy mojo," Buffy said with serious eyes.

"Jeez, fine, I swear it on my witchy mojo."

Buffy sighed, she really didn't like the idea of anyone knowing what she was up to - it could really get dangerous between the witches and Wolfram and Hart - but she needed some inside help if she was going to get her hands on this spell and keep Willow from fondling her dark side again.

"Okay, so there's this spell," she said, dropping her voice lower and glancing over to make sure Pam was still far enough away not to eavesdrop. "It's really, really powerful and I guess it's not written down anywhere. It's only been passed along verbally for, like, centuries. I've been told only the big time witches are in the know on how it's done. I _need_ that spell, Amelia."

"What's it do?" She asked, looking almost as curious/suspicious as Pam had moments ago.

"It keeps these really badass demony guys locked out of this dimension."

Amelia nodded slowly, looking thoughtful. "I can see why it'd be pretty important to keep secret then. The question is - what do _you_ need it for?"

"That other dimension I went to? Those demony guys are a serious problem over there and someone I care about is on the top of their hit list. They're just so strong… I think locking them out is the only thing that can stop them."

Amelia just looked at her for a moment longer before sighing and walking over to the wall that surrounded the property, leaning against it with a thoughtful look.

"I'm pretty low on the food chain, Buffy," she admitted. "Like, bottom of the barrel, plankton level. There's no way anyone would tell me that information."

"Okay, then can you maybe just help me find someone who _does_ know it?

"Not really, I only really know local witches. But, Octavia, my mentor, would probably know who to ask…" Amelia said slowly. "But if it's that big of a secret, she probably wouldn't tell us. She's a real stickler for rules. Plus, she's out of town until tomorrow anyway."

"Damn," Buffy said softly, looking up the stairs to where Pam, Sookie and Hadley had stepped outside.

"That… could actually be a good thing," Amelia said, her tone catching Buffy's attention more than her words. "She might have something at her house that could help you find what you're looking for. Something she normally wouldn't give you - like a list of witches."

"You want to break into your mentor's house and steal her little black witch book?" Buffy asked with a raised eyebrow. Amelia shrugged at her. Buffy thought for a second then shrugged back. "Okay."

"We'll have to do it tonight, she'll be back tomorrow," Amelia said, a little glint in her eyes flicking Buffy's "uh-oh" switch.

"What are you up to…"

"What? Noth- Okay, so maybe I have a little test coming up next week. It might be nice to know which spells she's going to be quizzing me on."

Buffy snorted a laugh. "Sneaky little cheater."

"Says the girl trying to steal a super-secret spell."

"Hey, the fate of a world hangs on me being a thief."

"And the fate of _my_ _personal_ world hangs on me passing that test," Amelia said, unable to keep a straight face.

The sound of Pam and Sookie coming down the stairs drew Buffy's attention and it was then that she realized that she wasn't going back to Shreveport that night.

_Crap…_

Eric was going to be _pissed_.

"I'm going to go get changed," Amelia said, walking back into the courtyard. She tossed Pam a wink as she went by and told her to call the next time she was in town. Pam gave a slow fangy grin and promised to do so.

"Hey, Buffy," Sookie said, looking tired but happy. Buffy eyed her neck discretely - no bite marks.

"Hey, Sookie. Things with your cousin turn out okay?"

"Yeah, well as good as they could I guess," she said with a shrug. "I'm just glad to know she's still alive. And she seems okay with us keeping in touch, so that's good."

"Yes, yes, it's all wonderful, can we go now?" Pam said impatiently, heading around the front of the car.

"So, yeah, listen," Buffy said, awkwardly, her tone making Pam stop in her tracks. "I have some stuff to take care of here, so you two go ahead without me."

"Oh, okay," Sookie said with a guileless smile, before giving Buffy a hug. "Call me the next time you're in Shreveport, I'll come visit."

"Sure thing," Buffy said with a tight smile, feeling Pam's eyes boring into her.

Sookie got in the passenger seat as Pam came back around the car, her movements slow and somehow predatory.

"You're staying here?"

"Yep."

"Why?"

"Just said - got some stuff to do," she said with what she hoped was a nonchalant shrug.

"What are you up to?" Pam asked, eyes narrowed and head tilted.

Buffy remained silent.

"Eric will not be pleased," Pam finally breathed out, sounding very put out.

"Eric's lived a long time without me," Buffy said dryly. "I'm sure he'll survive another night."

Pam paused before leaning into Buffy's personal space and saying very seriously, "He cares a great deal for you. More than I've seen him care for anyone else - and I've been with him a long time. Do not take his feelings so lightly."

She didn't wait for a reply, simply got in the car with Sookie and drove off, leaving Buffy with a heavy feeling of guilt in her stomach.


	40. Chapter 40

**Chapter Forty**

Buffy trudged into Amelia's apartment, feeling about an inch tall after Pam's parting words. She couldn't help but think things with Eric had gone smoother when they didn't really know each other, just had the occasional chaotic run in. It seemed like for every step she took forward in trusting him, she took two back with keeping stuff from him. She'd gotten too used to keeping people at arm's length over the years - especially romantic-type people.

But, really, what could she say in this situation? She couldn't very well be all, "Oh, hey Eric, sorry I can't be there right now. I'm going to try to get some of the world's most powerful witches into telling me a spell that'll _really_ piss off those demon guys that you seem to really be freaked over. You know, the ones that started a war and nearly killed all the vampires in this world a while back? Yeah, them."

That would go over really well.

But she had to say _something_. She couldn't very well just not show up in Shreveport and leave Pam to explain it to Eric. Not that she knew enough to "explain" anything…

"Amelia, can I use your phone?" She called into the apartment.

"Sure - it's in the kitchen," she called back from somewhere down the hall.

Amelia's apartment was a lot like Amelia herself - random but warm. The furniture looked expensive and comfortable with lots of puffy cushions and pillows, but none of it matched. The walls in the living room were a pale yellow that went well with the floral printed sofa, but clashed so horribly with the striped chair that Buffy couldn't help but shake her head. The kitchen was equally odd with its dreamsicle orange walls and dark wooden cabinets. It was weird, but Buffy liked it - pretty much how she felt about Amelia.

Once again she had to call information to get Fangtasia's number. She _really_ had to get her phone back. Wherever it was…

"Fangtasia," a gruff voice answered.

"This is Buffy, I need to talk to Eric," she said, partially hoping that they'd say no.

There was a pause and then the voice said, "Hang on," making Buffy slump a little.

"Buffy," Eric answered a few seconds later, already sounding suspicious.

"Uh, hey there, Eric," she said, giving a forced laugh. "So, funny thing happened. We were getting ready to leave and-"

"You're not coming back tonight."

"I'm sorry," she said, deflating and leaning her forehead against the wall by the phone. "And _really_ sorry this time, not half-assed sorry like I was before."

There was a slight huff on the other end of the line that Buffy hoped was a laugh.

"I'm looking into something for a friend back home," she said, sticking as close to the truth as she could. "It's kind of a 'tonight only' special…"

"Do I even want to know what this involves?"

She bit back her first retort of, "I'm sure you do, but that doesn't mean I'll tell you" and instead said, "It's no big. Just a little B and E."

There was a short stretch of silence from Eric and Buffy could hear the activity of the bar in the background, sounding busy even this early in the night.

"How can I get you to tell me things?" He asked, sounding genuinely confused and curious instead of angry.

She opened her mouth to give him the whole, "It's not you, it's me" spiel, but stopped herself because it _wasn't_ all her. Maybe it was better if he knew that…

"Okay, so I've kinda had problems with authority figures for, like, ever. I'm used to being the one that makes the hard decisions, who carries the weight and since that was my job, I never really felt that I had to explain myself to anyone. I mean, I take jobs from Sophie-Anne, and appreciate the work and the place to live and all, but I don't do anything I don't want to and I do things my own way."

"Then… you feel as I am some sort of 'authority figure', trying to force you into things you don't wish to do?" Eric asked, still sounding confused.

"No, no, it's just you have this whole 'I'm the boss and I must know everything at all times' vibe and that kind of makes me automatically want to do the exact opposite, ya know? It's like the more you try to force me into telling you what's going on, the less I want to. I know, I have issues. Plus, my, um, well, romantic relationships haven't turned out so well in the past…"

"And what can we do to remedy this situation?" He asked seriously, like he was making a battle plan.

"Well, I guess just being aware of it is a good start," Buffy said. "Like the whole 'admitting you have a problem is the first step' thing."

"So, I should… not push to know as much about what you are doing?" Eric muttered. "…I don't know if I can do that."

"Sure you can! And in return I'll try not to give you the run around every time you ask."

"But if I'm not asking then you won't have to work on not giving me the 'run around'."

"Even better!" Buffy grinned. "Okay, I gotta go, I'll call you later."

She hung up the phone and nodded at it with a pleased expression. That turned out better than she'd thought it would.

Amelia came bustling into the kitchen at that point with a bundle of black in her arms that she tossed at Buffy.

"Here, put that on."

"What? Why?"

"You can't go breaking into people's houses looking like that," she answered with a wave at Buffy's jeans and white top. "See, _I'm_ ready to be sneaky. Take note."

Rolling her eyes at Amelia's all black ensemble, but deciding it would be easier to just go with it than argue, Buffy went to change.

Ten minutes later they were in front of Amelia's mentor, Octavia's, house. Amelia looked grave but determined, while Buffy was having second thoughts.

"It looks like how I remember my grandma's house when I was little…" Buffy said, wondering if she had it in her to break into the tiny, adorable little home.

"Don't let it fool you," Amelia said seriously, still eyeing the building. "The place is like a mini fortress. Some of the spells protecting it would make your head explode."

"Literally or figuratively?"

"Both."

"Fantastic," Buffy muttered, her second thoughts turning into the third and fourth thoughts. Did she really want to risk breaking into this place with only _Amelia_ standing between her and an exploded head? No, not really.

"Don't worry, I know all the spells she uses," Amelia said confidently. "I've been with her when she let down the defenses dozens of times before. Most of them we won't even have to mess with - they only activate if they sense a weapon or some kind of ill intent."

Buffy hurriedly pulled Mr. Pointy from her pocket and the knife from the inside of her boot and put them in the glove compartment, giving Amelia a dirty look as she did so.

"Good thing I mentioned that now, huh?" She said with a little fake laugh.

Buffy rolled her eyes before remembering the rest of what Amelia had said.

"Wait, isn't stealing a form of 'ill will'?"

"Hmm, maybe… But we're not really _stealing_ per se, we're just… _looking_. We're not actually taking anything of hers."

Buffy thought that was stretching things a bit, especially with their limbs on the line – maybe they weren't going to take anything from the house physically, but they'd be taking information. Before she could question her further about the spells, Amelia hopped out of the car, leaving Buffy watching with a gaping mouth as she marched right up to the house and waltzed right in the front door. Buffy waited, half cringing in her seat, for a flash of light or a scream, but nothing happened so she got out of the car slowly and approached the house. She stopped at the door, refusing to cross the threshold until she knew she wouldn't melt or explode.

"Amelia? You still in one piece?"

The stretch of silence that followed made her heart drop. What if she was dead? Or turned into something nasty? It'd be all Buffy's fault for dragging her into this. She was still berating herself when Amelia popped up in front of her suddenly, making Buffy jump.

"All clear," she said with a grin, spinning and making her way further into the house.

Buffy, relieved but still wary, gently eased a toe through the doorway. Letting out a gusty sigh when her foot stayed attached to her body, she eased the rest of herself through. Her mom must've been right when she said God watched out for fools…

"It smells like _cookies_, Amelia," Buffy whined as she looked around. It was just as neat and adorable inside as it was outside.

"So?" She called back from further in the house.

"So? So, I think there's a special Hell for people that break into houses like this…"

"I think breaking into cute houses is pretty low on our list of Hell-worthy transgressions," Amelia said with a laugh.

"Speak for yourself," Buffy said with a huff as she made her way down a narrow hall toward her friend's voice.

Family pictures lined the walls and Buffy tried hard not to look at them, not wanting the woman's probably-adorable-old lady-face to haunt her guilt ridden dreams that night. She found Amelia in the first room on the left – probably a small spare bedroom at some point, but it had been converted into a tiny library. Other than a desk under the window and an armchair in the corner, there was nothing in there but shelf-lined walls filled with books. Amelia had pushed the desk chair out of her way and was squatted down by the drawers, muttering what sounded like nonsense to Buffy but was probably some kind of spell under her breath

A few seconds later she fell silent and tried pulling out a desk drawer - Buffy noted how slow and careful her movements were, like she was poking a bomb. It was far from confidence inspiring. But the drawer pulled out without any trouble and Amelia let out a sigh of relief before she went digging through the contents. She tossed a small black leather address book over her shoulder at Buffy and continued her search.

"That's the only place I can think that she'd write down other witches information," Amelia said. "If what you're looking for isn't in there then we'd have to toss the place."

"Toss the- Did you seriously just use professional criminal slang? Are you like, a closet klepto or something?"

Amelia shot a sheepish grin over her shoulder. "I watch a lot of crime shows."

Buffy rolled her eyes. "No, there will be no 'tossing'. If it's not in here then I'll find the info some other way."

She unsnapped the cover and started flipping through the pages carefully.

"How will I even know if these names are witches or family or friends?" She asked, turning another page.

"Look for ones out of state," Amelia said distractedly. "Octavia doesn't have any friends or family outside of New Orleans that I know of."

The book was mostly empty and it didn't take Buffy long to skim its contents - only three names were listed outside of Louisiana. Buffy drifted over behind Amelia and grabbed a post it and a pen to copy them down.

"Hey what's this little symbol mean," she asked, nudging Amelia in the back with her knee.

Amelia looked behind her, cocking her head to peer at the book.

"Whoa, that's the one you want right there," Amelia said with wide eyes. "Unless there's someone else listed in there with that symbol?"

"There's one other, actually. Then a third with…" Buffy flipped pages. "That symbol."

Amelia nodded. "That one's good, but the other two are better. Those symbols denote positions in the magical hierarchy. Those first two you showed me are top of the food chain. The third's pretty high up, probably really powerful, but if the spell you're looking for is really that big of a secret, she wouldn't have the details."

"But the other two might…"

Amelia nodded and went back to her digging while Buffy copied down the info. She'd just stuck the paper in her pocket and resnapped the clasp on the little black book when Amelia yanked a folder out from the depths of the drawer with an "Ah-HA!" She'd just started opening it when there was a tingle of… _something_ and a sudden "pffft".

Buffy's reflexes had her ducking back and her arms covering her head. When there was no pain or screaming from Amelia, she risked a peek between her arms. Amelia had fallen backwards onto her butt, one hand behind her and the other still holding the folder, which was now a bright dripping purple. Slowly she tipped her face up and back to look at Buffy, who let out a surprised laugh at the sight of her friend. Amelia's entire face was purple except for some little fine lines around her eyes from where she must have squinched them shut before the purple blast went off.

Buffy looked at her reflection in the window and was pleased to see that other than a stripe on her cheek and a few strands of her hair, she was purple free. Well, except…

"At least I was wearing _your_ clothes this time," Buffy said, plucking at the saturated cloth.

* * *

><p>Buffy sat at Amelia's computer, freshly showered and back in her own clothes - although the purple stripe and strands of hair seemed to be sticking around for a while. Apparently, Octavia knew Amelia and her sneaky thought process pretty well and had set up a kind of witchy booby-trap. Like one of those exploding ink security devices, she'd rigged the folder labeled "Amelia's Test" (which had turned out to be empty) with a spell that would stain Amelia purple if she tried to steal it.<p>

"It won't come _off_," came the predictable wail from the bathroom.

Buffy thought about trying to find out how the hospital staff had un-blued her, but then decided against it. She'd had to run around Hell A stained blue and now was stuck for who-knew-how-long with a fashion statement of a purple cheek stripe and streaked hair, Amelia could face her mentor with a purple face.

Ignoring Amelia's wailing and cursing, Buffy looked up the area codes for the two numbers she'd found that were supposed to belong to the big-time witches. The first was in Las Vegas. Buffy's hands froze over the keyboard and a muscle ticked in her jaw as her teeth clenched. No, she hadn't forgotten she had business to take care of in Vegas. Victor Madden was still high up on her list of asses to kick, but mixing business (finding ammo against Wolfram and Hart) and pleasure (watching Victor's face as Mr. Pointy got acquainted with his chest cavity) was a bad idea. She'd go to Vegas if she had to, but she'd try the other witch first.

The other witch turned out to be in Louisville, Kentucky. Didn't really seem like Louisville would be a hotbed of witchy activity, but who was she to judge? Actually, that was probably of the good – probably less chance of her getting in trouble in Louisville than, say, New York or some other bigger city.

But wasn't the King of Kentucky also in Louisville?

Buffy racked her brain, trying to remember the tidbits of info she'd picked up from Sophie-Anne on vampire politics, but it was useless - her brain could only retain so much boring crap before it starting throwing stuff out. Who was in charge of Kentucky had apparently been deemed "crap" and tossed.

She guessed she could go without knowing, it wasn't like she was going there to mess with the King anyway. But the fact that such a supposedly powerful witch was living in the same city as him made her pause (it also made her wonder about what was going on in Vegas with a twinge of worry). But where could she get the info? It wasn't like she could just saunter into Sophie-Anne's office and start picking her brain about the King of another state without raising any suspicions – plus Buffy wasn't even supposed to be in town right now. Rasul was out, he'd want to help and she didn't want to drag him into this. Plus, that would put him in an awkward position with Sophie-Anne and Buffy felt like she'd done that to him enough already. Pam wasn't an option either, she'd tell Eric. Eric would… Buffy shook her head - she didn't even want to _think_ about what Eric would do if he found out she was going to find an uber-powerful witch in the King of Kentucky's backyard.

That left… No one. Great. Buffy leaned forward resting an elbow on the desk and her chin on her hand as she stared out of a window facing the small courtyard. Being on the lower level of the short end of the "L" shaped building, she could easily see when someone moved in the upper half in the long end - Hadley's place. The lights were on inside, making her figure stand out in sharp relief as she walked by the window. Buffy perked up slightly. Maybe she could get Hadley to tell her about the King of Kentucky…

It was a long shot, Hadley hardly seemed the talkative type and she seemed to particularly dislike Buffy, but her antisocial nature also meant that it was unlikely that she'd be chatting to anyone about Buffy or what Buffy had wanted to know. It was worth a shot, at least. Maybe she would get lucky and Hadley would actually feel a measure of gratefulness to Buffy for saving her life. Buffy snorted as she stood from the desk - not likely.

"Hey, I'm going to go talk to your neighbor for a minute," Buffy called into the half open bathroom door.

"Ask her if she knows any way to get stains off skin," Amelia lamented. "Never mind, knowing her, she'd just offer to flay me…"

Buffy left the sound of scrubbing behind her and headed outside for the stairs. The night air was warm and humid, making Buffy momentarily glad for her night owl status - the day had likely been miserably hot if it was still this warm after the sun had set.

Buffy reached the door and was still in the process of knocking when Hadley whipped it open.

"What?" She asked flatly, eying Buffy with suspicion.

Buffy put her still raised fist down awkwardly. "Well, I, uh, wanted to ask you a question. A vampire question."

"No," Hadley answered, swing the door closed.

Buffy blocked it with her foot, irritation at the vampire's attitude problem reaching a high point.

"Is it too much to ask that you, I don't know, show the _slightest_ bit of appreciation for the fact I kept that guy from staking you in the back?"

"Okay, where's your sister at then. I'll be sure to thank her," Hadley snarled.

Buffy was about to snipe back when she realized the snarling was continuing on even though Hadley's mouth didn't match the sound, like some badly dubbed Japanese movie. Hadley's eyes went wide and her head slowly turned to look at what Buffy assumed was a coat closet door there in the entrance.

"Okay, maybe I can help you out with your questions," Hadley said tightly. "But in exchange, I'll need your help with something, too."

There was a sudden loud thump and closet door rattled as the growling grew in volume.

"If what you have trapped in that closet is any more vile than R. Kelly, I think I might have to pass," Buffy said, taking a step back away from the door.

It was then that the closet door splintered and burst open, a man shaped snarling mass rushing straight for Buffy.

Buffy stepped to the side, grabbing his arm and using his own momentum to slam him into the wrought iron railing surrounding the walkway. It bent and complained with a loud shriek of metal, but held. Worse, the snarling guy didn't seem even remotely phased by it; instead he was already leaping for Buffy again. She was ready for him, but Hadley stepped in front of her suddenly, intercepting him and sending him flying back into the apartment where a crash of breaking furniture and shattering glass soon followed. Hadley darted in after him, no more than a blur of motion.

Buffy rushed in after her to find that she'd managed to pin the much larger and furiously snapping vampire to the ground - sitting on his back with his arms jerked back and her legs keeping his from getting any sort of leverage. She reminded Buffy of Faith so much in that moment that it left her light-headed. She shook it off and reached for her stake.

"No, he's just new!" Hadley yelled with a sharp look. "He needs blood."

"He's not getting mine," Buffy said, shaking her head and taking a step back.

"No, you idiot, there's blood in the refrigerator! Get it!"

"Oh, yeah, 'kay," she said, rushing to the fridge and yanking a six pack of bottles from it. "Aren't you supposed to like, warm it up or something?"

"No time for that shit now."

Buffy ran back over and twisted the lid off the first bottle but then paused.

"Just start pouring it in his mouth," Hadley said, scrambling a bit as he almost managed to buck her off. "And hurry the fuck up!"

"I don't think my having my yummy blood filled wrist near his mouth is going to help the situation any," Buffy said dryly.

"He'll regain some sense after he's gotten some blood in him," she said, but Buffy caught the uncertainty lining her words.

It was awkward and messy, trying to pour blood into the vampire's mouth as he was thrashing on the floor, trying to unseat Hadley and get the blood at the same time. Buffy was pretty sure more of it was getting on the floor than in his mouth - Hadley's cleaning bill when this was all said and done was going to be insane. After the first bottle though, he did seem calmer. The second one he latched onto with his mouth, like a baby with a bottle.

"That's… disturbing," Buffy said, unable to look away. "Why the hell was he in the closet?"

"Why not?" Hadley shrugged. "I've got expensive shit in my spare bedroom, I wasn't about to let some newbie vamp wreck it all."

"You could've taken it out."

"All that work for what was basically a dead body for three days? Screw that."

"Wait a minute," Buffy said, realization hitting her as she twisted the top off a third bottle. "You had him in the closet the whole time Sookie was here?"

"So?" Hadley said defensively. "He wasn't due to rise until tonight, so what difference would it make?"

They sat in silence for a moment, the only sound that the wet sucking the new vamp was making as he nursed the bottle of blood.

"You can't tell anyone about this," Hadley said suddenly. "He's- This is- Well, it's all fucked up and I think someone is trying to screw me over with all this. I need to keep this quiet until I can figure out what the hell is going on."

Buffy considered that a moment before shrugging. "Not really my business anyway. But there's a price for my silence."

Hadley narrowed her eyes. "This about your question you had earlier?"

"Yeah. I need to know about the King of Kentucky."

"Why?" Hadley blurted, looking surprised. Then she held a hand out and shook her head. "Never mind, I don't wanna know."

Hadley fell quiet for so long that Buffy started wondering if she just wasn't going to answer her. Finally, she kind of shrugged, eyes on the still drinking vamp.

"Sophie'd be the best bet for that info, but me and her aren't really talking right now and I'm guessing there's a reason you're asking me instead of her," Hadley said stiffly. "So, I can tell you what I know, which isn't much. If you need more than that, I can make some calls, but you'll have to wait until tomorrow."

Buffy shifted into a more comfortable position and opened the next bottle for the guy on the floor. He was looking less like a rabid animal now and more like a confused, but sleepy puppy as he finished the bottle he was working on. Hadley had loosened her grip on him, but was still keeping him restrained - which Buffy was all for.

It only took a few minutes for Hadley to share what she knew. Apparently, the King of Kentucky, Isaiah, was a pretty easy going guy – on the surface anyway. He was pretty open minded about the new era of vampires being in the spotlight and that made human/vampire relations in his state some of the best. He was full of southern charm, liked to hunt and wore western clothes most of the time. Plus he kept his people out of trouble so there weren't any of those pesky "incidents" that plagued vampy PR in states with a higher vampire population, like Louisiana.

But he was also a paranoid bastard, Hadley had said. He watched the goings on in Kentucky with what bordered on obsession. Which obviously was working out well for him, seeing how smoothly his state apparently ran – it also meant that he was fully prepared if someone actually _did_ make a move on him. That was bad news for Buffy though. It meant she could potentially really stick her foot in it by traipsing around there poking at witches.

Filled with information and thoughts of how she was going to pull this off without making waves in the vampire political pool, Buffy stood to leave. The new vampire under Hadley watched her stand with more curiosity and confusion than rabid hunger now, making Buffy wonder what exactly had been going on with Hadley lately - the attempt to raise Marie Laveau, the attack from the creepy pale vamp, the newly dead and risen camping out in her closet. She actually opened her mouth to ask, but stopped herself. She had enough of her own drama to deal with at the moment, she didn't need Hadley's too.

"Never mind, I don't wanna know," Buffy said with a head shake, repeating Hadley's words to her earlier with the realization the vampire probably felt the exact same way about Buffy and her own pot of drama stew.

Hadley surprised Buffy by giving a lightning quick smile of amusement before telling her not to let the door hit her in the ass on the way out. And while Buffy didn't have any problems with the door, she did hope that ignoring Hadley's problems wouldn't come back to bite her in the ass later on….


	41. Chapter 41

**Chapter Forty-One**

It was only a little past two in the morning when Buffy dragged herself into her apartment. An early night for her really, but it felt later. Especially after listening to Amelia beg, whine and threaten about being able to go with her to Kentucky…

She'd insisted that Buffy needed a witch at her back. But Buffy thought her desperation to go was more due to the fact she wouldn't be able to find anyone local to remove the purple from her that wouldn't tell Octavia about it.

"So you want to come with me on this potentially deadly trip just so your teacher won't find out that you tried to cheat on a test," Buffy had asked as Amelia had driven her home.

"Yeah, pretty much," Amelia had answered without hesitation.

Buffy had just shaken her head and got out of the car, the sound of Amelia yelling, "Don't you dare leave without me!" following her up to the door.

But that was exactly what Buffy was thinking about doing. Not that it wouldn't be nice to have a witch with her - despite the purple fiasco, Amelia had done a pretty good job disabling Octavia's protection spells. But, this was _Amelia_. This was a delicate job and if anyone was _less_ suited to delicate work than Buffy herself, it was Amelia.

But she _had_ managed to send Buffy to her home dimension… Knowing what she knew now about Amelia's touch and go abilities, the thought of what could've happened that night made her a little queasy. But it also proved that Amelia really could go above and beyond to get the job done when it mattered.

Even more important than whether or not she took Amelia with her, though, was the fact that she had _no idea_ how she was going to get the Kentucky witch (whose name was _Fern_ of all things - but Buffy wasn't going to comment on that… Sticks and stones and glass houses and whatever) to tell her what she needed to know about the spell.

Buffy's mind was so full of these things that she almost didn't notice the blinking on her answering machine as she made her way to her bedroom and had to backtrack to the machine. The first message was from Rasul and was timed only twenty minutes earlier.

"_Buffy, I know you're still in town. I've been asked to relay a message for you to meet your employer as soon as possible. Enter through the back gate."_

Buffy crinkled her nose at the cryptic message. She got that Sophie-Anne was all about Buffy's employment for her being kept a secret, but not even leaving her name in a message was a little paranoid. And what was up with her having to go in the back? She was wondering how Rasul had even known she was still in town when the next message came on, timed five minutes after Rasul's call.

Silence aired for about ten seconds, making Buffy's impatient finger twitch over the "erase" button. Just as she was about to poke it, Eric's voice froze her hand.

"_Your guard is looking for you," _he said stiffly, his words stilted and his accent a little thicker than normal. _"Apparently you are wanted for a meeting. I told him you were staying in New Orleans for another night, so I suggest you contact him."_

The message ended with a click, leaving Buffy chewing her bottom lip. Having Rasul call Eric looking for her after she'd bailed on him once again was like pouring salt on a wound. And to make matters worse, it was starting to look like she wouldn't be getting back to Shreveport any time in the foreseeable future. Between her planning a trip to Kentucky and whatever the hell it was Sophie-Anne wanted, who knew when she'd get back there…

Sookie was the final message, left just five minutes before she'd walked in the door.

"_Hey, Buffy! Just wanted to let you know we got back safely and that I found your phone. It was under the guest bed - guess it must've fell off the table and got kicked under there. Anyway, it says you have forty-five missed calls… I didn't want to go looking through your business, so I don't know who they're all from, but I thought you should know. Um, I guess give me a call if you want me to look at it, if not… well, it'll be waiting here whenever you want to come get it. Bye!"_

Buffy stood staring at the phone for a moment before giving a weary sigh and heading back out into city - might as well get her meeting with Sophie-Anne over with. Pam had her car, so she had to walk to Sophie-Anne's headquarters, but it wasn't that far and it wasn't a long walk and she'd made it before.

The guards at the back gate, two she recognized that usually smiled at her when she went by, only nodded tersely. The security roaming the grounds usually ignored her after a cursory glance, but this time they studied her so long that she had to rein in the urge to stick her tongue out at them. They really didn't look like they were in a playful mood…

Inside the building was much the same story - it was like everyone was just wound a little too tightly. She took the elevator up to the third floor and was immediately the focus of Sigebert and Wybert's intense staring.

"Uh, I was told she wanted to meet with me…" Buffy said with a shrug as they continued to look at her without moving.

After an awkward beat of silence, one of them (she still hadn't managed to tell them apart and really only remembered their actual names about ten percent of the time) gave a knock on the door then stuck his head in while the other kept giving Buffy the stink-eye. A moment later he pulled back from the door and gave her a grudging nod, as if he were somehow disappointed that she was allowed to go in. She edged by them warily - they were a little overzealous with their guard duty on a good day, and this didn't seem like a good day.

She kept her eyes on them until the door clicked shut. Only then did she turn to face Sophie-Anne, who was watching her with what anyone else would say was a blank, bored look. But Buffy had managed to pick up the tiny glint in her eye that signaled she was amused.

"They boys are a looking a little twitchy out there," Buffy said with a wave toward the door as she made her way to the seat in front of the desk.

"Yes, the reason for that is part of why I wanted to talk to you," Sophie-Anne said. "But first, I'd like to know why you're back in town after I sent you off with Eric…"

"Oh, well… there was kind of a girl's night out and, uh, we ended up in New Orleans on a spur of the moment type… thing," she said haltingly - she really didn't want to mention her sister or Willow to Sophie-Anne.

"Hmm, well, I suppose there are many more options here than in Shreveport for entertainment," she answered after a thoughtful pause. "I'm guessing this 'girl's night' is where you picked up your… fashion statement?"

Buffy lifted an eyebrow in confusion until Sophie-Anne gestured toward her cheek.

"Oh, that… Yeah, things got a little out of hand," she mumbled, dropping into a chair.

"Purple suits you," Sophie-Anne claimed with a gravity that almost made Buffy laugh. "It's actually fortunate timing that you came back now instead of later though."

"Why's that?" Buffy asked, glad to be moving on to a new topic.

"My husband, Peter Threadgill - you remember him from the party, yes?" Buffy nodded. "He's due to arrive here in New Orleans two nights from now. There's to be a party here in the city a week from then - a celebration of our union."

"And you don't want him to see me," Buffy immediately guessed.

"Given your escapades in Texas, Mississippi and Peter's own home state, that would not be prudent."

"Okay," Buffy said, actually feeling a little lighter at the revelation - maybe she'd get back to Shreveport after all. "I'll make myself scarce until your hubby takes off again."

"There's more to it than that," Sophie-Anne said, her voice grave as she leaned forward, resting her arms on her desk as she interlaced her fingers. "His people aren't due to come in until tomorrow - to assess security before their King arrives - but I'm fairly certain he'll send someone before that - actually, I believe it's possible he's _already_ sent them."

"That's why you had me go in the back gate…"

"Yes. I've known from the beginning that Peter's motives for this marriage were fueled by more than just the mutual benefits our States would receive from our joining - it was obvious after what you heard at his party that he had plans to somehow take Louisiana for his own. I thought that since I was aware of his intentions, it put me in a position of power, that I could turn his plans against him. But I fear I may have underestimated his impatience for action…"

"You thought you had more time before he sprung his trap," Buffy translated the Queen's overly formal speech. "You think he plans on making his move on this visit."

"I do. An employee of mine has gone missing and… Well, a very important item, a gift from Peter actually, has disappeared as well. It's possible the missing vampire had it in his possession, but there's another possibility as well… A much more likely possibility, unfortunately. If it's the latter, then Peter himself didn't actually orchestrate this - it's just a case of very unfortunate timing. The problem is that with his people possibly in town, they are most likely aware of what has transpired. And given they are most probably watching me, that makes it very difficult for me to attempt to remedy this situation."

"So you want me to try and get this thing back?" Buffy guessed, a little line appearing between her eyes as she tried to follow Sophie-Anne's very vague and confusing explanation.

"No, no. As I said, I think I know who has it, but… it's complicated and best if it's handled delicately. And you, Buffy, despite your best efforts, are _not_ delicate."

Buffy pouted a little but didn't argue. "So, what exactly is it you want _me_ to do."

"I'd like you to go with Rasul tomorrow evening and look at the venue the party will be held at. I want your opinions on security, but more than that, I want you to know every square inch of it. If Peter were to make his move, to attempt to overthrow me, I believe it will happen there. Given your… _status_, I can't have you at the party itself. But I want you nearby."

A tense silence fell over the room. Buffy's mind raced, trying to put together how this missing gift from Threadgill, possible spies and an absent vampire all equaled up to what Sophie-Anne was suggesting. It was like trying to put together a thousand piece puzzle when you only had two corners and an middle piece. It was pointless, so she shook it off for the moment, moving on to what directly involved her.

"You realize all this cloak and dagger stuff will be for nothing if I burst in there to save the day, right?"

"If it comes to the point where you need to step in, then I don't plan on anyone living that can identify you," Sophie-Anne said flatly. "Other than the people that already know you work for me, of course."

"You're planning a full out massacre of Threadgill's people then…"

"It will only happen if they make the first move, Buffy. In that case, we know that they planned a 'full out massacre', as you said, themselves."

If the situation hadn't been so serious, Buffy might've snorted at Sophie-Anne's round-about way of claiming this plan was self-defense.

"Are you sure that I can't just fix whatever problem you were talking about earlier? Where the mysterious something was stolen by a mysterious someone? Cut this whole coup thing off at the knees?"

"I plan to try just that," Sophie-Anne said. "But if I can't fix it, then there's no chance you will be able to. And there's a very good possibility that Peter's and his people will still make their move, even if I'm successful at making the basis for the attack null."

"So, basically you just wanted me to come in here to warn me to stay out of sight until the shit hits the fan - then I'm supposed to get my slay on," Buffy concluded.

Sophie-Anne gave a humorless smirk. "Yes, that sums it up very well."

* * *

><p>The sun had been up for a while when Buffy finally fell asleep. Her mind had just been too full of questions and turmoil when she got back from Sophie-Anne's to rest. She still had no idea how to get the witch to tell her what she needed to know, what to do about Amelia wanting to tag along, or how to patch things up with Eric (she'd meant to call him but hadn't remembered until the sun was already up – a rambling message probably wouldn't cut it this time…).<p>

Then there was this new mess with Sophie-Anne…

She wasn't sure how she felt about being included as one of Sophie-Anne's army, fighting in defense of the "Queen" like she was some kind of worker bee. Scratch that, she knew exactly how she felt about it - not good. She'd been working hard on recalibrating her moral compass to swing away from slaying vampires just because they were vampires. Slaying vampires just because they were against Sophie-Anne didn't really seem like a step in the right direction. But if Threadgill's people really were there to stage a hostile takeover in the most literal sense, then Buffy couldn't exactly just sit back and watch either…

Even when she slipped off into dreamland, her mind conjured up images of battle and carnage. Disjointed images floated by. There was a fight in a pillared room filled with dead, leaking vampires. Eric sat pouting in a corner while pulling the petals off of a daisy splattered with blood. "_She loves me. She loves me not. She loves me. She loves me not_." Hadley was sneaking along the wall, leading the new vamp on a leash while Amelia tried to help by conjuring a fog to obscure their enemies' sight - which failed spectacularly since Buffy couldn't see anything anymore either. "_Oops."_ She wandered lost in the sea of fog, hearing screams and splatters but blind to the source. Sensing someone behind her, Buffy swung her stake through the dense fog as she twisted - only to come face to face with Rasul as her strike met its mark. Dark eyes widened in hurt and confusion-

Buffy jerked upright in bed with a gasp. The panic and horror still sat in the back of her throat, thick and nauseating. Part of her realized that it had just been a dream, but the fact that she was still staring into Rasul's face even though she was awake, left her reeling in confusion, keeping the horrible last image alive and well in her mind.

"Must've been some dream," he remarked with a raised eyebrow.

Rasul's voice washed over her meaninglessly as her eyes dropped from his, not wanting to see that look of betrayal superimposed over his currently smirking one. Instead, her gaze fell to his chest. His non-stake-impaled chest. Her hand came up of its own accord, resting over his non-beating heart, fingers gripping the fabric of his black t-shirt to keep her hand from shaking. Only then did she feel herself calming.

"I knew one of these days you'd wake up and realize you couldn't keep your hands off of me," he said, his cocky words lined with a thread of confusion.

She just closed her eyes and let out a shaky breath.

"Hey. Seriously, you okay?"

His humor had faded into concern and she felt one hand settle over hers on his chest while the other tucked some stray strands of hair behind her ear.

"Yeah," she said, her voice rough as she opened her eyes again and gave him a weak smile. "Just… Guess I should've eaten those old takeout leftovers before I went to bed."

His dark eyes looked into hers intently, obviously not buying her excuse. It was only then, as her heartbeat settled back into its normal rhythm and her mind was finally convinced she hadn't actually staked her friend, that she realized how completely inappropriate this was. Rasul's face was only about six inches from hers, his hip pressing into hers as sat on the bed next to her. Her hand was still twisted in his shirt, one of his covering hers, holding it close to him while his other continued brushing back the hair by her temple soothingly.

"Were you watching me sleep?" She asked, pulling her hand away and using the excuse of scooting back to lean against the headboard to put some space between them. "I knew you were a creeper at heart."

He was silent a moment, his dark eyes serious and his body leaning forward a little, like he was about to close the distance again. There was a lurch in her chest at the thought, but she wrote it off as dread and decided not to analyze it any further.

Then he leaned back on his hand and gave a smile. It was a little strained, but Buffy appreciated the effort anyway as some of the tension in the room dissipated.

"We're supposed to be going over to check out the grounds where the party's being held, remember?" He said before giving a devilish little smile. "And I was actually more thinking about catching you in the shower when I came in than watching you sleep."

"Creeper," she repeated with a disappointed head shake.

"Guilty," he grinned back as he got up and stretched.

Muscles coiled and slid under the snug t-shirt as it rode up to show a slice of skin.

"You're doing that on purpose," she accused with narrowed eyes.

"Told you I wouldn't make it easy on you," he laughed. "If I have to lure you in using my sexy body as bait, then so be it. I'm not above being objectified."

Buffy threw a pillow at him as she fought a losing battle against smiling. "You and your sexy body get out. I'll be ready in a few minutes."

She shook her head as she climbed out of bed, amused despite herself. Shouldn't it be more awkward? This whole situation between them was weird as hell, for sure, but it didn't seem to affect them nearly as much as it should. Maybe she was just selfish… Wanting him around so much that she could live with his feelings toward her, even though she knew couldn't return them.

_Are you so sure about that?_ A little voice whispered in the back of her mind. She pushed it aside quickly and buried it under a more important thought - was her dream something she should be worried about? Slayer dreams were usually pretty random, and everything her mind had just conjured up could be explained away by her subconscious. The worry over the possibility of an ugly vamp fight; the up and down, push and pull of her and Eric's relationship; Hadley and Amelia's appearance there. It was the bit about Rasul that bothered her. It was most likely some kind of representation of how she thought she was hurting him by not returning his feelings, but she couldn't quite shake off the fear thought that someone close to her dying in her dreams could really be a portent of things to come…

* * *

><p>"<em>This<em> is where the party's going to happen?" Buffy asked, looking at the looming grey building as they crouched on the high wall surrounding the property.

Rasul nodded "The interior of the monastery's been completely gutted and redone to serve as an entertainment venue."

"A monastery being used for a vampire hoedown. And people don't think Sophie-Anne has a sense of humor."

They hopped down from the wall they'd scaled to get in - not wanting to take the front gate in case it was being watched by one of Threadgill's people. The grounds were well maintained and expansive, covering a whole block with huge trees and beautifully manicured grass. The building on the other hand…

"It's… _ugly_," Buffy said, stopping to just stare at the plain, grey stone, two story building.

"And after seeing the Queen's headquarters, that surprises you?" Rasul remarked dryly as he surveyed the area around them.

Buffy gaped at him for a moment before grinning. "I think I'm a bad influence on you. I don't think you've ever said anything bad about Sophie-Anne, Mr. Perfect Professional Guard Guy."

"I didn't say anything 'bad' about the Queen," he said quickly. "Just that her properties are… less than pleasing, visually."

Buffy snorted. "Nice try."

"The main gate is the only entrance," Rasul said quickly, obviously wanting to move on from his moment of blasphemy. "It'll be stationed with four permanent guards - two of ours and two of Peter Threadgill's. The outside perimeter will be patrolled by eight guards - again evenly divided between us and them."

"And the grounds? In case someone manages to slip in?"

"Lions."

Buffy nodded, then paused. "Wait. What?"

"Three lions will be wandering the grounds."

"Why the- Where- Can a lion beat a vampire in a fight?" Buffy blurted, that one question eclipsing the others.

"No," Rasul said slowly, as if that had just occurred to him as well.

"Then why the hell are lions going to be wandering around? What's the point?"

"I guess so they can take care of anyone that's not a vampire that sneaks in?" Rasul guessed with a shrug.

"Sophie-Anne is weird," Buffy mumbled, continuing the trek toward the building. "Okay, so that's the security for the grounds. What about the building?"

"Two more guards will be at the entrance - that's where I'll be."

Buffy nodded, looking at the looming building and its one narrow entrance on the front wall. "And that's the only way in or out?"

"There's another door in the back that goes to the Queen's private quarters here. Other than that, it's only the windows."

The windows were high up and very small, so Buffy doubted that would be much of a concern. The back door though…

"Will the back door be guarded?"

"Yes, by one of our people. But to get there would mean someone would not only have to make it by the outside guards, but also the inside ones and the lions. It almost seems like a waste to put someone there…"

Buffy thought a moment and then nodded. She wanted to see the inside of the building before she made a decision about that…

They came at the monastery from an angle, using the trees as cover from the light of the moon. They'd just reached the side of the building near the front corner when Rasul grabbed her arm, hauling her back and pressing her between himself and the wall as he peered around the side.

"Rasul, what the hell?" She asked flatly.

"I thought I saw something," he said, giving a shrug as he continued to look around the corner.

Granted, Buffy's senses in this dimension were a little off. The constant presence of vampires everywhere made her a little desensitized to the usual spidey tingles – over time, they'd turned more into a dull background buzz than the actual warning that they were meant to be. That didn't mean she wasn't well aware of what he was up to even without double checking their surroundings.

"Sure you did," Buffy said with an eye roll, pushing him away. "You saw an opportunity to wiggle yourself into my personal bubble. A lot like you taking advantage of the fact you knew I was in town to suggest to Sophie-Anne that I should look at this place, right?"

"I just thought you should be here for the party - in case something goes wrong," he said, blinking at her in an all too innocent way.

"You're a sneaky bastard," she said with a head shake as she continued around the corner toward the front door.

"Okay, okay, maybe I took advantage of the situation a little. But that doesn't mean you shouldn't actually be here."

"You really think Threadgill's going to pull something?" She asked curiously as she slipped into the dark building.

She felt, more than saw, Rasul shrug as he came in next to her, both of them pausing as their eyes adjusted to the deeper darkness inside.

"Sophie-Anne didn't get where she was by ignoring possible threats," he said. "And the fact that Waldo's been missing for days just adds credibility to the theory something's going on."

"That's the missing employee she was talking about? Waldo?" Buffy asked distractedly.

She barely heard Rasul's affirmation, instead her attention was caught by the shadowy columns around the room. Just like in her dream…

_Lots of places have columns_, she told herself. _Threadgill's place in Arkansas had them, too. Doesn't mean anything…_

She spent the next ten minutes just walking around the place, getting a feel for it. It wasn't really necessary for her to see the place beforehand - she'd always been good at thinking on her feet and adapting to situations - but it couldn't hurt to know where all the doors, windows, etcetera were first hand, she supposed.

"Why don't you have the guard that's supposed to be stationed outside the back door be on this side instead," Buffy suggested, motioning to the entrance to the personal room in the back. "That'll give you one extra person inside. Like you said, it seems kind of redundant to keep someone back there. I can position myself to keep an eye on it and then come in that way if I need to make a quick entrance."

"You'll have to watch out for the lions," Rasul said, bumping her shoulder with his arm as they headed for the door.

"And tigers and bears?" She grinned back.

He laughed. "Not sure about the bears, but there will definitely be a tiger here."

"Walking the grounds? Won't it fight with the lions?" Buffy asked as they stepped back outside.

"Shifter tiger, not a 'tiger' tiger."

"Wow," Buffy breathed. "I didn't even know there was any such thing."

"They're pretty rare. This one actually officiated the Queen and Threadgill's wedding," Rasul said, then added slowly. "We'll have to keep an eye on him though… He's pretty famous for his fighting skills. If he chooses to side with Threadgill's people when it goes down…"

"Vampy kitty chow," Buffy finished gravely.

"Sounds like an unpleasant way to go out, doesn't it," Rasul said, making a face.

"Don't worry, I won't let the big bad kitty get you," Buffy teased, dodging Rasul's attempt to shove her.

It felt good to laugh and have fun with Rasul again. She was worried they wouldn't be about to do this anymore, that something between them would be irrevocably changed after finding out he liked her as more than just a friend. But this was fine, right? Just friendly banter? Okay, so it had a flirty edge, but they'd always been like that…

"Oh, the tiny little human's going to protect me?" He laughed, pulling her from her thoughts as he tugged a strand of purple hair playfully. "You can't even fight off a magic marker, apparently. What's that from anyway?"

"Witchy booby trap," Buffy pouted, pulling the strand around to glare at it before tucking it back behind her ear. "My friend that caused it actually got the full brunt of it though - her whole face is purple. But I'm thinking of taking her with me on an errand so who knows what I'll come back looking like after that…"

"An errand, huh? Back to Shreveport?"

"Nah," Buffy said, giving a shrug as she reminded herself to keep her tongue from thoughtlessly wagging. It was easy to talk to Rasul, but she really needed to be careful with what she said…. "Just going to check out something for a friend. I don't think I'll be able to make it back to Shreveport at all, actually. By the time I finish up with the errand, I'll need to be here for Sophie-Anne's party."

"Oh, well… that's too bad," Rasul said, trying to look disappointed on her behalf and failing so miserably that she actually burst out laughing.

"Yeah, I'm sure you're all torn up inside over it."

Rasul grinned back. "I tried."

"A valiant effort," Buffy said with a serious nod.

The conversation back to the garage was easy and fun, once again reminding her of how things were between them before she found out Rasul had a thing for her. Part of her still felt like this was a step in the right direction, that this was proof that their friendship was strong enough to move past his confession. But another part had decided to speak up and was whispering that she was walking a very fine line and she really needed to be watching her step.

"So, listen, I have to get back to work now, but how about I come over when I get off? We haven't had a movie night in a while," Rasul said as he parked.

"I don't think that's a good idea," Buffy said slowly, hating to let things get weird again but not able to ignore that warning voice in her brain any longer. "It's just, things are good between us right now and I don't really want to mess with that, you know?"

"I feel the same for you now as I did all the other times we watched movies together," he said bluntly. "So why should this time be any different from those?"

Somehow, his words sounded like a challenge.

"Uh, because now I know how you feel now?" She said, her heart rate picking up a little.

"Or maybe because you're starting to feel the same way," he suggested, his voice low and dark eyes boring into hers leaned over the middle console towards her.

Buffy's breath caught in her throat and she actually found herself entertaining the idea of just sitting there and letting it happen. But just as his lips brushed hers, she pushed the door open and jumped out of the car with a mumbled goodbye. She thought she heard Rasul call her name as she made her way to the elevator but didn't turn back.

She spent the ride up to her floor berating herself for letting things turn out like they had. For being so selfish as to think she could just ignore Rasul's feelings for her, try and force things to be just like they were by completely disregarding how he felt. And worse than that, she felt horrible at the fact that part of her had _known_, or at least _suspected_, that she was leading him on. That part of her had even been excited by their flirtation even as she tried to label them as something else.

She was seriously messed up.

Just as it was with Eric, she'd managed to fix things only to screw them up all over again.

What she needed was some space. Some perspective on everything. And also maybe to clear her way too full plate a little. She just had too much going on right now. With that in mind, she went straight to her bedroom when she got to her apartment. Pulling a backpack out of the closet, she filled it with nothing more than a couple changes of clothes, her Sunshine Smith ID and cards that she hadn't used since Dallas, and, not sure the cards were valid anymore, she stuffed a wad of cash in as well.

She still wasn't sure what she was going to do. But she needed to be out of sight since Threadgill was coming to town anyway, so leaving was just logical. It wasn't like she was… _running away_, or anything.

Plus, facing off with powerful witches and vampire kings? That just sounded like a way more attractive confrontation than dealing with Eric and Rasul at the moment…


	42. Chapter 42

Author's Note - I am so, so, SO sorry for the lateness of this chapter. Life has been a bit crazy for me lately, thus making a mockery of my optimistic update schedule.

**Chapter Forty-Two**

The back of the cab smelled like smoke and Chinese food, making Buffy's nose wrinkle as she picked absently at a burn mark on the seat by her thigh. Against her better judgment, she'd given the driver Amelia's address when she got in. Now she was trying to decide exactly where that decision fell on the scale of "necessary" to "unbelievably stupid"…

What she'd like to see happen in Kentucky was her walking into this Fern chick's place saying, "Hey, you know that super-secret spell you have? Well, I need it." And then Fern would offer her tea and cookies and hand it right over. But experience told her that things rarely went the way she wanted them to, so having a witch in her corner, no matter how volatile, was better than nothing she supposed.

Maybe.

Hopefully.

She was still trying to convince herself that taking Amelia with her wasn't suicidal when the taxi rounded the corner just before their destination. A fire truck rumbled past, lights off, and as Buffy looked toward the spot where Amelia's house was, she saw another one pull out of her driveway. Sitting up straighter, burn mark left in peace, she leaned forward in her seat as tension coiled in her. The smell of smoke that she'd written off as cab-stink was noticeably stronger now that she was paying attention.

"That where you wanna go?" The cab driver asked over the pounding of her heart.

"Yeah," Buffy forced out, shoving a wad over the front seat. "You can drop me here."

She jumped out onto the sidewalk before he'd even pulled all the way to a stop, running through the lingering smoke into Amelia's courtyard. The first thing she saw was Amelia, surveying the damage with her hands on her hips near the retaining wall in the center of the circular drive. Taking a deep, steadying breath as relief swept through her, Buffy let her eyes take in the rest of the scene.

It was obvious the fire had started on the right hand side on the upper floor - that part of the house was nothing but blackened, crumbling beams and mounds of unidentifiable, melted objects. The downstairs section didn't look too bad other than the white façade being coated with a layer of smoky grime. Buffy knew the inside was probably a mess though - with amount of water it probably took to put out the blaze, she was sure the upper floor was about a hair away from collapsing onto the one below.

She stopped next to Amelia and dropped her bag at her feet, getting the other girls attention. The only light in the driveway was that from the moon and what little was reaching them from the streetlights, so Buffy couldn't tell if Amelia's dark face was all from the purple or if she was covered in soot.

"So… this is new," Buffy said, motioning to the mess.

"It was time for a different look," Amelia shrugged. "Whole houses are so last season."

"Couldn't agree more. Was this an intentional redecoration, or just good luck?"

"Oh, good luck, absolutely," Amelia said, her fervent head nod at odds with the slight bitterness that had edged into her words. "Just happened to be a very nice man with some Molotov cocktails on hand in the neighborhood."

"So, what happened? He just decided to offer you his services for free?"

"What happened is someone trying to kill me," Hadley announced, marching out of the shadows from the wall by the road, the new vamp trailing behind her. Her hair on the left side was singed down to about an inch long and the side of her face was red and shiny. Blistered hands were clenched around a can of coffee.

She also looked _pissed_.

Buffy decided not to ask about the random coffee rescue.

"Oh, I thought you were dead," Amelia said with a head tilt, her voice loaded with disappointment and absolutely no self-preservation. "I guess this is good though - means your renter's insurance can cover the damage instead of mine. You know how they'd be - fire bombed _one_ time and they'll be jacking my rates to kingdom come."

"Wait, fire bombed? Molotov cocktails? Someone needs to get with the 'splainin'," Buffy said, partially because, seriously, what the hell? But also to distract Hadley who was looking like she was about to rip Amelia's head off. The new vamp was motionless behind her, eyes looking disinterestedly at the wreckage and shoulders slumped.

"Yeah, someone threw them in my damn windows - I almost went up like a fucking roman candle. Did you miss the part where I said someone was trying to kill me?" She snarled, attention and wrath swiveling from Amelia to Buffy.

"With your winning personality? Who would possibly want to kill _you_?" Buffy asked, eyes wide and overly innocent.

One of these days she really should learn not to poke bears with sticks - or angry vamps with sarcasm…

But instead of the nasty retaliation she expected, Hadley went quiet and thoughtful as her gaze shifted to the side.

"I thought it was just about making me look bad," She muttered. "But killing me wouldn't do that…"

"How about sharing with the rest of the class?" Buffy suggested with an eye roll.

"You said you were going to Kentucky, right?" She said instead, eyes coming back to Buffy again. "We'll come, too."

"Oh, are you ready to leave?" Amelia asked, brightening suddenly as she pulled a black duffle from the retaining wall behind her. "Look, I'm packed and ready to go. I made sure to grab it as I got out in case the whole place went up. Quick thinking, huh?"

Buffy ignored Amelia's creepy mood swing and instead focused on the ticking bomb Hadley had dropped seconds ago.

"Wait, so you and…" She looked over at the still silent vampire.

"Jake," Hadley provided.

He gave Buffy a disinterested glance at the sound of his name, sighed morosely and turned back to the smoldering ruins.

"Uh, okay. You and Jake, you want to come with us to Kentucky? Is that what I heard?"

"Yeah, do I need to repeat myself a third fucking time? Someone. Tried. To. Kill. Me. Tonight," Hadley said, over enunciating each word. "I need to get outta here and figure out what I'm going to do next. Somewhere I won't have to worry about someone trying to light my ass on fire."

"And you think that's going to be in _Kentucky_?" Buffy asked incredulously. "Wasn't it _you_ that told me about how crazy paranoid the king there is?"

Hadley shrugged. "It'll only be a problem if we get caught."

Buffy shook her head, the different disastrous scenarios running amok in her head.

"I guess I could go stay with Sookie," Hadley suggested thoughtfully.

"No, no," Buffy said, immediately knowing she'd been had but unable to do anything about it. The last thing Sookie needed was her vampire cousin and vampire… pet, or whatever he was, hanging out in Bon Temps.

Feeling a little bad for thinking of him like a pet and for the fact that nobody seemed to be checking out what he thought of any of this, Buffy leaned slightly to the side to get a better view of Jake.

"This is probably going to be pretty dangerous. You okay with all this, Jake?"

"Doesn't matter," he muttered. "None of it matters…"

"Ignore him," Hadley said. "He's being a little bitch about not being able to turn anymore."

"Turn?" Buffy asked

"I'm a werewolf," Jake said, something hopeful and brittle in his words.

"You_ were_ a werewolf," Hadley said ruthlessly. "_Now_ you're a vampire."

"It's such a surprise that someone wants to kill you," Amelia said, her words oddly muffled.

Turning her gaze back to Amelia, Buffy saw that she was bent over her bag. When she stood, she had donned a burqa and sunglasses.

"When's our flight?"

Buffy could feel a headache on the horizon.

* * *

><p>Half an hour later they were in front of a large storage locker on the far west side of the city. Everyone just stood and stared at the contents for a moment (well, except Jake, who just sighed and looked at the sky outside).<p>

"You've gotta be kidding me," Amelia finally said, breaking the silence. "Why can't we just fly?"

"Because you insist on wearing a fucking _burqa_ and trying to take a bag full of crazy fucking herbs and shit on a _plane_," Hadley snapped.

"This from the vampire that's cuddling a can of coffee! I _need_ this stuff if we're going up against a witch. And I can't just run around with a purple face either."

"This way we don't have to worry about you making a fucking scene and getting all of us snatched by security. Plus, it's better for me and Jake because we can just find a hotel when the sun starts coming up instead of worrying about delays and shit."

"Then can't we just drive there? In a _car_?" Amelia whined, her eyes still locked on the contents of the storage container.

A snarl curled Hadley's upper lip. "Not if you want to make it there alive."

"How did the two of you manage being neighbors?" Buffy said with a bewildered headshake.

"Easy, she sleeps at night. I sleep during the day. We only ever actually see each other maybe twice a year."

"Yeah, that," Amelia said. "And, also, I put a spell on my apartment that will fry her into a crispy critter if she steps past my door. Makes me feel a little more secure, ya know?"

"You _what?_!" Hadley barked out.

The needle on Buffy's Meter o' Stupidity gauging the level of this mission had already been a hair away from edging out of the green and into the orange before Hadley's declaration that she and Jake were joining them. As Buffy shook her head and walked into the storage locker, accepting that this was the way it was going to go, it was swinging steadily toward the red.

* * *

><p>Eric sat in his booth, watching the mass of people mill about his bar. It was a good night. Business had been excellent lately, he should be sitting back and watching the money roll in. And to any outsider, that's exactly what it would look like he was doing. He was sprawled lazily in his seat, the look of predatory amusement that humans seemed to both be attracted to and wary of on his face as they watched him with excitement and fear. But inside, his mind was locked in the vicious circle that was closer to the thought process of a teenage boy than a centuries old vampire.<p>

He hadn't heard from her.

It had been two nights ago that he'd last talked to Buffy and then gotten the call from the guard asking for her whereabouts.

He'd considered many things - calling her apartment, calling the guard, calling Sophie-Anne - but summarily dismissed each of them. He was… _controlling_ apparently and if he wasn't careful, his actions would just push her further away. The itching feeling he felt at not knowing where she was or what she was doing told him that maybe there was a grain of truth in her assessment of him.

But if he was controlling then she was overly secretive. Pulling teeth was easier than getting information out of her. And far more enjoyable as well. Speaking of rather pulling teeth, the look of amusement he saw on Pam's face as she approached made him think that he'd rather pull his own than find out what was making her so giddy. Pam's happiness meant trouble for him more often than not. He barely held in a tired sigh. Between her and Buffy, he truly must be some sort of masochist.

"Our contact in Texas just called," she said, sliding into the seat opposite of him and tapping a manicured nail on the table. "Thought you'd be interested in knowing that Stan just sent Vasquez with a group to Kentucky. Their goal is to apprehend Buffy."

Eric's raised an eyebrow. It had taken him a while to find an insider willing to share information inside Stan's camp after the events with the Fellowship spy in his ranks. But since he had, he'd found out that Stan had sent a team looking for Buffy at every turn those first months after her appearance in Texas. He'd jumped at any rumor, any hint, that she might have been found. They were all wild goose chases though and eventually the searching had tapered down to nothing. Until now apparently.

"He's still on about that?" Eric said with a quirk of his lips as he relaxed a little bit. "And why does he believe Buffy is in Kentucky?"

"Well, he thinks that 'Sunshine Smith' is headed that way. Apparently, one of his men thought he'd found a trail leading from Mississippi towards Kentucky and called someone to check it out. His contact said he followed the projected path and ran across her at a gas station - a blond with purple streaked hair and part of a motorcycle gang. He'd overheard one of the members mention Louisville."

Eric couldn't help but snort. "He's really reaching for straws now, isn't he? Buffy, the motorcycle gang leader. With purple hair, even."

Pam laughed, but it sounded a little too gleeful for Eric's taste and tension crept into his shoulders as he narrowed his eyes on her.

"Yes, completely ridiculous. So is the fact that the way they tracked her was by the use of Sunshine Smith's credit cards."

Eric pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes, the dark behind his lids giving him no respite from Pam's laughter.

* * *

><p>"Quit fidgeting," Hadley hissed. "Someone'll see you."<p>

"I feel icky. Three nights in this leather is three too many," Buffy said as she made more of an effort to be still.

"I kinda like it," Amelia said, giving a little shimmy and an eyebrow waggle.

"It's to protect your stupid human body if you fall off the bike, you ungrateful shit. You're lucky I had extras. A little thanks would be nice."

"Thank you, Hadley," Buffy said through gritted teeth, her fingers twitching toward Mr. Pointy.

Okay, so she was running a little low on patience at the moment. But between Amelia's whining, Hadley's snappishness and Jake's moping, Buffy was nearing the end of her rope.

The drive had actually turned out to be the best part of this miserable trip so far. She and motorcycles apparently meshed well - who knew? If it hadn't been for Amelia and the two vamp tagalongs, she probably would've actually enjoyed herself.

She also would've gotten to Kentucky a hell of a lot faster.

They left late from New Orleans so they only got about four hours in before they had to stop. And it wasn't a good four hours either. While Amelia could drive the motorcycle without a problem, the combination of it being night and the highway made her nervous, so she'd stuck to driving a good fifteen to twenty miles under the speed limit.

When daylight had started creeping up on them and they'd found a hotel, Buffy got them a room - but only _a_ room, because she'd wanted to keep her cash until she needed it and wasn't sure how far the Sunshine Smith cards would go. Since Hadley had provided the transportation (and the leather outfits to go along - though Buffy suspected that was more because Hadley was screwing with them than anything to do with safety), she decided Buffy should pay for gas and hotels. Amelia paid for food and (though she bitched about it the whole time) blood for the vamps.

All of them staying in one room had been a huge mistake. If it hadn't been for the fact that Hadley and Jake pretty much just died for the day, she was sure all four of them wouldn't have walked out of there in one piece. Needless to say that once they reached Louisville the next night, Buffy didn't make the same mistake. She'd rather go sleep on another rooftop than stay in the same room with those three again.

There hadn't been time for much after they'd gotten to Louisville the night before, except a little research. Hadley and Jake went out to a few vamp bars while Buffy and Amelia napped. When they came back, they had a location on the King's residence. While they slept the day away, Amelia and Buffy had gone around to the local magic shops, and after a bit of detective work and piecing bits of info together (mostly from the "stay away from there" advice), got an idea where the witch lived as well.

That was the good news.

The bad news was that king and the witch were practically neighbors.

Right now, they were doing a little recon (at least that's what Buffy called it - truth was she still had no idea what she was going to do and was hoping some brilliant idea would come to her anytime), looking at the witch's house from the east side of the property, furthest away from where the king lived, from some bushes on a hill.

The house was nothing more than a tiny dark rectangle in the middle of all the huge expanse of land surrounding it (the exact opposite of the cabin-like monstrosity that they'd seen in the distance that must belong to the king).

"Let's get closer. I can't see anything," Amelia said, army crawling through their patch of bushes toward another clump further down the hill.

"How is it _you_ can see just fine?" Hadley asked Buffy.

Buffy gave an awkward shrug as she slid along the ground, keeping half her senses on the witches house and the other half on Jake behind her - for all his Debby Downer tendencies, no way was she comfortable having a new vamp at her back.

"I just have good night vision," she said lightly.

"Uh-huh," Hadley muttered disbelievingly - her assumption that Buffy was nothing more than Sophie-Anne's errand girl apparently slipping away. "Just like you only got lucky when you were able to jump Waldo, right?

"Waldo?" Buffy asked, something tugging on her memory.

Hadley rolled her eyes. "Yeah, the stupid pale fuck that tried to stab me in the back? Literally? Ring any bells?"

"Oh, Waldo," Buffy muttered, still thinking hard. Then it hit her - _Waldo!_ Sophie-Anne's missing Waldo! Crap, Sophie-Anne was blaming his disappearance on her husband when Buffy'd really left him to melt away in the cemetery. Not good… Maybe she'd have time to clear that up before the party…

"Why are you even here?" Buffy asked, redirecting the conversation as she plucked a twig out of her hair. "Did you need to see the witch too? Wanna ask for a heart?"

To her surprise (or maybe not so much, given Hadley's glowing personality), she rounded on Buffy, fangs popping out and fury in her eyes. Given the fact that Hadley's burns hadn't fully healed yet, she was pretty damn scary looking - all fangy and scarred in the moonlight. Scary looking to anyone but Buffy anyway, who just raised an eyebrow. And Amelia, because she had no sense of self-preservation.

"Can it, Hadley," Amelia said from the other side of Buffy. "Someone's coming out."

Hadley gave Buffy another dark look, her right hand rubbing at her left wrist as Buffy had seen her do again and again since she ended the love affair with the coffee can. Buffy glanced at the wrist curiously, but was unable to see anything beneath the long sleeve of Hadley's shirt, so she turned her attention back down the hill to the house.

Below them, the door to the house was swinging open so slowly it could've been auditioning for a horror flick. Buffy waited with baited breath for her first sighting of the witch. A light next to the door clicked on, illuminating the front of the house in a yellow semi-circle and the door stood gaping and empty. Amelia leaned forward, eyes wide and Buffy felt herself mimicking the action. But instead of a person coming out, there was a sudden wave of tiny furry bodies. About fifteen of them, all varying shades of gray and about the size of Pomeranians.

"Puppies!" Amelia crooned.

But Buffy, whose eyes could take in more details at this distance, wasn't so sure. Their proportions weren't that of an ungainly puppy - they were well balanced and moved with an unnatural grace.

"They look more like little wolves," she said.

"Minusculus lupi," Jake breathed, looking interested in something for the first time since he'd tried to eat Buffy. "Don't let them fool you. They're nastier than a full sized Were."

"Were?" Hadley said, swinging her gaze to Jake. "You mean those things are midget werewolves?"

"Pygmies actually," Jake said, watching them with wistful kind of look.

"They're so cute!" Amelia said, pushing further up on her elbows to get a better look. "So, if you're bitten by one of them, do you turn into a tiny werewolf, too?"

Buffy glanced over at Jake for the answer. For some reason, turning into a werewolf didn't seem so bad if you could be little and cute…

"Don't know," he said thoughtfully. "No one's ever lived through an attack by one."

Scratch that. Being little and cute was overrated.

Turning back toward the scene in the yard, Buffy watched as they ran around the house in eerie silence. You'd expect there to be some kind of barking or yipping or whining - anything vocal to go along with the almost frantic energy they showed as they darted around. The more she watched, the more she was creeped out, making her glad they'd inadvertently picked the side of the property that was upwind.

After a few minutes the door opened again and they ran back inside.

"So, what's next?" Hadley asked after they'd all stared silently at the house of a minute.

"Uh, I'm not sure," Buffy said at the same time Amelia said, "We're going in."

"She's a crazy powerful witch with midget wolves-"

"Pygmies," Jake reminded them.

"Maybe we shouldn't just go busting into her house," Buffy finished.

Because, really, who had freakin' tiny vicious werewolves in their house? This whole trip just kept getting worse and worse. Buffy was starting to wonder if maybe staying and dealing with Rasul and Eric would've been better.

Nah.

"I'm not going to get any less purple out here just watching," Amelia said, getting to her feet suddenly. "That was the whole point of this trip-"

"Not the point of this trip," Buffy said.

"So I'm not going to just sit out here," Amelia barreled on, marching down the hill without a look back.

Buffy jumped up and grabbed her by the back of her shirt before she could get more than ten steps.

"Did you miss the part where the little wolves _eat people_? You really want to be in there," Buffy said, pointing to the house. "With all of them? It'd be like being in a kiddy pool with a bunch of piranhas."

Buffy was fine with close contact fighting, but the image being in that house with fifteen mini-weres and a witch made her claustrophobic just thinking about it.

"Maybe we can get her to come outside," Buffy suggested.

Amelia looked thoughtful then muttered a few words under her breath as she pulled out a wad of herbs from the little pack she'd brought along, lighting them with whoosh of stinky smoke.

Then the roof of the house went up in an eye-searing blast of blue fire, the flames flicking up into the sky reminding Buffy fleetingly of one of those troll doll things. Then the fire disappeared just as suddenly as it had appeared, leaving the roof surprisingly unmarred. All that remained was a haze of smoke and, weirdly enough, the smell of what Buffy swore was a mixture of stinky feet and cut grass.

"What the fuck did you do?" Hadley whispered in shock.

"It was just supposed to be a flash of light. Guess it didn't interact well with whatever spells she already had on the place," Amelia said with a grimace. "Oopsie!"

"No shit 'oopsie' ," Hadley snapped. "I'm sure she's going to be really happy to talk to us now that you set her fucking house on fire."

Buffy silently agreed. The chances of this night going anywhere good were quickly dwindling.

They all fell silent as the front door again below them.

"See, it worked anyway," Amelia whispered triumphantly.

Then the pygmy wolves swarmed out again, this time a snarling, yapping mess of tiny teeth and fury.

"Oh yeah, great idea," Hadley hissed, backing up toward their early cover of bushes.

"I'll lead them off so you can get in," Jake said.

His vampire speed had him down the hill and running for the back of the property before any of them could blink. It only took the little wolves a split second to catch the motion and take off after him.

"Hadley! Go get him!" Buffy hissed.

"No."

Amelia followed after Hadley as she started down the hill toward the house, giving Buffy a shrug as she looked at her over her shoulder.

"His choice. Might as well make use of his distraction, right?"

"Vampires are faster than wolves," Hadley called back. "If he can't even keep pint-sized ones off his ass then it's better that he just die now."

Buffy shook her head and glanced into the darkness where Jake and the wolves had disappeared. She knew Hadley was probably right about him being faster, but she still felt bad as she followed the other two down the hill to the house.

Stepping into the semi-circle of light from the fixture by the door, Buffy could now tell that the house was painfully normal up close. Painted brown with darker brown shutters and a glossy white door, it hardly looked like the home of a super-scary witch. Well, if you hadn't seen the pet wolves…

The door still sat half-open, the interior beyond dark and foreboding despite the exterior's normality.

"Um, hello?" Buffy called, knocking on the frame and wondering how she'd somehow gotten to the front of the group.

When no one answered, Amelia slowly put out her hand and pushed the door open fully, leaving them all gaping at the sight inside.

* * *

><p>Eric followed behind Vasquez and his team of five at a discreet distance. He vaguely recognized all of them - not much more than hired muscle really. But Vasquez was a different story. If Eric wasn't supremely cautious, Vasquez would figure out he was being followed and things would get ugly fast. That was the reason he was flying - much less likely he'd be spotted as a small figure against a dark sky than in a car following them down a deserted stretch of road just outside of Louisville.<p>

From what he could glean from following Vasquez and his men on their information scavenger hunt earlier, the woman that was supposedly Buffy had been spotted in numerous places around the city - mostly enquiring about magic and local witches.

So far they'd done nothing more exciting than drive from witch's home to witch's home, trying Eric's patience as the night wore on and there was no sign of Buffy. But as much as he wanted to find out for himself if the rumor was true and go looking for her on his own, he thought it best to follow Vasquez and make sure they didn't actually come upon her first.

He perched himself in a tree as the lumbering SUV holding Vasquez and his team came to a stop at the entrance to a winding dirt drive. They all piled out and stood for a moment, the wind carrying their words away from Eric, but their body language expressing unease. Vasquez, though not shuffling or looking around in disquiet like the others, was tense as he seemed to be barking orders at them.

The blue flames that erupted at that moment from about a mile into the property didn't help put the group at ease.

"Move!" Vasquez bellowed so even Eric could hear.

He watched as the darted into the forest, then dropped to the ground to follow behind. Part of him was singing that this amount of chaos had Buffy's name scribbled all over it, but even if that proved to be true, rushing into things wouldn't help either of them. He needed to keep the element of surprise on his side for now. If necessary, he could take out almost all of Vasquez's men before they even were aware of his presence, as long as he stayed out of sight and unnoticed.

So he stayed back, flying below the tree line, but well enough above the ground to prevent the sound of ripping underbrush - the same sound he was using to follow their path. Abruptly, the sounds in front of him shifted though, forcing him to stop. It seemed one of the vampires had slowed his approach, then suddenly reversed it, coming directly toward Eric. He considered taking a detour around the wayward vampire, but decided that if he was backtracking because he had a hint of Eric's presence that it would be best just to take care of that now, so he placed himself far up in a tree and waited for the other's appearance.

It didn't take long before he caught sight of him. He was moving more slowly and carefully than he'd been before, casting sharp glances over his shoulder as he went. A retreat then. Eric wasn't really surprised. Most vampires knew it was dangerous to mess with witches and this place positively reeked of magic - Eric was actually surprised this one had that much sense (although bailing on Vasquez took a special kind of stupidity in itself).

The faintest scent of werewolf drifted to Eric then, making his brow furrow slightly as he searched the area around them but came up with nothing. Apparently the lone vampire had also scented it - he'd fallen still under Eric's tree, looking around warily.

There was absolutely no warning before a group of small, naked, brown skinned men suddenly sprung from the bushes, voices raised in an odd chorus of "I-yai-yai-yai-yai!" as the rushed the lone vampire, who had dropped into a defensive stance with his fangs out. Then the little men sprang at him and, with the sound of a feather pillow exploding, turned into small… dogs? _No,_ Eric thought, remembering the faint scent. _Wolves._ Minusculus lupi, then. Interesting. He'd thought they'd all gone extinct.

Eric watched in fascination as they fell upon the vampire and stripped him down to the bone within moments before moving on - leaving nothing but a dissolving skeleton behind. Eric waited a moment before moving, wanting to be sure the wolves were out of the area. Given that there hadn't been any prelude to their attack aside from the slight scent, Eric decided keeping to the air would be for the best.

Within another minute of travel the forest opened up to a large expanse of open rolling hills. His delay hadn't been much apparently though, because he could see Vasquez and his remaining men entering a small house at the foot of the hill he was on. He waited until they were all in before springing into the open and closing the distance rapidly.

He paused at the entrance, the scent of vampire and werewolves strong in his nose. But under that there was something else. Something faint and elusive but that might have very well been the smell of Buffy. He stayed there a moment longer, trying to pin it down more decisively, but it was useless. He wished he could tell if she was actually there or not - if this was an utter waste of his time. But since he couldn't he stepped into the house.

And immediately froze at the sight before him.


	43. Chapter 43

**Chapter Forty-Three**

"Whaaaaaat the fuuuuuuck?" Hadley whispered, peering into the house from behind Buffy, bringing her a little too close for comfort to Buffy's neck.

If Buffy could've unglued her tongue from the roof of her mouth, she probably would've echoed Hadley's sentiments. Instead, all she could do was stare at the bizarre sight in front of them.

Or, maybe _below _them would be more accurate.

A set of white marble stairs, much wider than the door for some strange reason, led down about thirty feet into a cavernous room - somewhere around the size of three football fields, Buffy would guess, but round. The ceiling stretched into a golden dome far above them, about fifty times higher than the roof of the tiny little house they were supposedly inside of.

And if that wasn't weird enough, there was the sprawling carnival that took up the middle of the huge room for extra-bonus wiggyness.

From where they stood, Buffy could clearly make out the Ferris wheel and a carousel, a dozen or so game booths, some house shapes that could've been any number of attractions, maybe "haunted" houses or mirror mazes, a few little roller coaster-y things and a handful tents with who knew what inside. She swore she could even smell popcorn and those sweet roasted almond things.

But unlike every other carnival Buffy had ever seen, this one was utterly empty and still. All of the rides were dark, lit only from the ambient light somehow coming off the golden dome above them.

"This is so against international coven rules that it's not even funny," Amelia said, pushing past Buffy to stand on the first stair and sounding more impressed than chiding.

"What, you're not allowed to put carnivals in your house?" Hadley asked.

"No, you're not allowed to mess with dimensional space like this. Either she's expanded this spot in our dimension or she's added her own pocket dimension. Neither are cool according to the international laws of magic."

"How come?" Buffy asked, following Amelia down to the first step with Hadley behind her.

"Makes it too easy for people to figure out witches and magic are real. There's no way to explain something like this away if someone came across it. Maybe the vamps want to be out in the public, and I know the Weres are thinking about it too, but the whole burned-at-the-stake thing makes most of us a little leery about coming out of the proverbial closet."

Having almost been burned at the stake once herself, Buffy could definitely see the reason in that.

"FERN!" Hadley suddenly yelled. "WE'RE LOOKING FOR A WITCH NAMED FERN! YOU IN HERE?"

Buffy cringed while Amelia looked around in excitement. Unfortunately (or maybe fortunately) the sound was oddly absorbed instead of echoing around the vast space.

"Well, I guess we start looking then, huh? She has to be here somewhere," Amelia said, staring down the stairs.

Actually, the witch _didn't _have to be there somewhere - they hadn't actually seen her, so it was possible she wasn't even home. But they'd come this far, it'd be silly to back out now. Plus, Buffy had to admit she was kinda curious about the creepy carnival, so she followed Amelia without comment. Hadley, too, looked interested in finding out what was going on down below - a big improvement over her usual apathy or sneering, allowing Buffy to actually see the family resemblance between her and Sookie for once.

Like some strange optical illusion, the carnival seemed to grow the further down the stairs they got. When they finally stepped from marble to the dark, dirt floor, the carnival was the size of a small city. And now that they were closer, Buffy could see that the rides were freakishly out of proportion and had strange angles. The Ferris wheel, for example, had looked normal from a distance, but up close she could see that while each of the ten cars were painted different colors, like a normal Ferris Wheel, they were a lot smaller than normal while the spokes holding them were way too long.

"This place is eight different kinds of fucked up," Hadley said, her voice pitched low.

Amelia gave a nod of agreement, but once again her lack of self-preservation outweighed her common sense and she went wandering further into the carnival. She paused by a tent with a tiny door and a really tall, kind of twisting spiral top (tents totally weren't supposed to be able to do that…), nudging the box out front that contained a creepy looking animatronic gypsy lady's head and torso with her foot.

"Think I should wish to be big?" Amelia asked, turning to grin at them over her shoulder.

Buffy tensed, waiting for the thing to come alive and say "Wish Granted". But her faded, peeling face remained still and Amelia didn't shoot up to fifty feet tall, so Buffy cautiously let out the breath she'd been holding.

"You are so fucking stupid," Hadley told Amelia seriously. "I'm going to laugh when you die, just so you know."

Amelia's indignant reply was cut off by a sound behind them. The first they'd heard beside their own voices since they'd come inside, so each of them jumped slightly and whipped around. Buffy was sure she was going to see the uber-evil clown from It come out of a tent, laughing about how "We all float down here", but to her great relief it was just a handful of vampires.

There were five of them standing at the top of the stairs by the front door, looking around in the same awe Buffy and Co. had shown just minutes earlier. It wouldn't take them long to recover and spot the small group below though…

"Crap, the witch must have security from the king," Hadley muttered. "We can't let them leave here - they might be able to link us back to Sophie."

"Let's lure then further in, try and find a better spot for a show down," Buffy suggested, worried about being able to protect Amelia and slay in a head-on fight. She'd like to find a safe hidey-hole for her to hang out in for a while.

"You two go that way," Hadley said, pointing to the Ferris wheel. "I'll loop around and try to surprise them."

"What? Why?" Amelia asked suspiciously.

"Because you and your fucking heartbeats are like gonging dinner bells, that's why. There's no way to sneak up on them when they can hear you, dumbass."

"Oh," Amelia said slowly before giving a shrug. "Right then."

Buffy in the meantime was eyeing their surroundings in suspicion. There was something _really_ off there. Something besides the obvious anyway. Whatever it was, it was sending her Slayer senses into overdrive. She looked around them as they made their way toward the Ferris wheel, more concerned with what was giving her the wiggins than with the vamps that had just shown up. Vamps she knew, vamps she could handle. But whatever was here was making her all tingly in not so pleasant ways.

"You realize she's probably just going to ditch us right?" Amelia said.

"I doubt it," Buffy answered distractedly. "She didn't have to be here at all to begin with. And she could've left any time but she hasn't. I don't think she's going to choose now to leave, not when there's a fight about to happen - she seems like she's more than ready to kick the crap out of someone."

"Why do you think she's here then?"

"I think there's something going on at home she doesn't want to think about."

"Like someone trying to kill her?"

"No, something else…" Buffy said.

She really thought it was whatever was going on with Sophie-Anne and Hadley that had her here with them and not the threat of being murdered. And _that_ Buffy could relate to, having come here to escape thinking about her own romantic entanglements.

Pushing Hadley's problems from her mind, Buffy navigated by a few more buildings and came out in a little open area in front of the Ferris wheel. It was even bigger up close, its oddly long spokes holding the its multicolored cars twice as far from its center as a normal Ferris wheel. The blacked out windows on the cars made Buffy eye them warily, not liking not being able to see inside them.

Hearing some distant sounds carrying from the direction they'd just come from, Buffy turned her back on the wheel and watched for any incoming, not wanting to get caught off guard. Behind her, she heard Amelia climbing the wooden platform that led to the bottom car.

"Don't mess with that, Amelia," Buffy warned. "Who knows what kind of booby traps she has on this place."

Amelia, of course, didn't listen at all and Buffy was treated to the metal of the door handle clicking open seconds later. Buffy whipped around and opened her mouth to ask her what the hell she was doing, but her voice got caught in her throat when she saw what was in the car.

"Holy shit!" Amelia yelped, slamming the door closed again.

Buffy forced her jaw to close from where it had almost unhinged itself and rolled her tongue around in her suddenly dry mouth.

"Those were dinosaurs," Amelia whispered, eyes wide on her purple face as she looked back at Buffy. "Dinosaurs, Buffy! What the hell?"

She was right. Those were definitely dinosaurs. Much like when they'd opened the door to the house and found this huge carnival inside instead of two bedrooms and a kitchen, the inside of the car wasn't just two little benches - it was a sprawling, green world with huge leathery looking dinosaurs wandering around. Buffy swore she could still smell something swamping and humid.

A sudden rumble and whine came just before the wheel started turning, making Amelia step back cautiously. But it only moved until the next car was level with the platform, then stopped again. The little yellow bubble with its blacked out windows seemed much more sinister now.

"They're other dimensions, right?" Buffy said, her eyes roaming up around the wheel to take in the other cars.

"That would be my guess," Amelia said. "I mean, that's why we're here - because she apparently has the know how to block someone from them. Stands to reason she's some kind of expert."

That left Buffy wondering just the heck the King of Kentucky needed a dimension hopping witch for…

Her worries on that were shoved to the side as she watched Amelia reach for the handle of the new car.

"What are you doing?" Buffy hissed, stepping up on the platform and yanking Amelia back by her shirt.

Amelia jerked out of her grasp and gave her a dirty look. "I'm looking for Fern, obviously. That's what we're here for, remember? To find Fern and ask her how to un-purplize me? And about your thing, too? You think we should just stand around and wait for her to show up? Or for the vamps to come eat us?"

At the mention of the vampires, Buffy cast a wary eye around them again. She was sure they would've seen the massive Ferris wheel turn, almost like a big neon saying "HERE WE ARE", so where were they?

A flash of movement by a ragged black tent at the corner of her vision caught her attention and she whipped her head towards it, but couldn't see anything out of place. Distracted as she was, she wasn't really paying attention to Amelia and the Ferris wheel.

Not until she heard the bone rattling roar behind her, anyway.

She jerked back around to see the open door of the yellow car with something huge and furious looking back at them from way too close. Beady black eyes and hang-y jowls were vaguely noted as its huge, toothy maw gaped at them, little dangly tonsil things vibrating in the back. Huge ropes of slimy spit were flying out of its mouth, covering Amelia and catching Buffy fully in the face as she took it in over her shoulder.

"Close it! Close it!" Buffy yelled in between spitting and wiping at her eyes.

Amelia slammed it closed seconds later, then promptly slipped in the huge puddle of monster drool and fell on her ass.

"I don't think she was in that one," she said, blinking up at Buffy with wide eyes.

Buffy gave her a flat look as she scooped goo off her face and out of her hair. It was hard to be mad when Amelia was the one that took the brunt of the spit bath though. She looked like a kitten that just got licked by a giant, drooly dog - all slimy and shocked as she was sprawled on the ground.

"Hey! You're not purple anymore!" Buffy said, pausing in her scooping to take in Amelia's goopy but normal colored face.

Amelia's eyes roamed over Buffy's face and she grinned back. "You neither! We did it!"

Amelia scrambled for her feet, slipping and sliding and falling once more before getting to a stand about as steady as a newborn foals.

She raised a hand in the air, a rope of opaque slime as thick as Buffy's wrist sliding off it to plop on the ground.

"High five!"

"Uh, maybe later…" Buffy said, taking a step back.

Amelia made a pouting face, but that quickly morphed to alarm as the Ferris wheel started groaning behind her. She stumbled over next to Buffy, both of them backing off the platform in alarm when instead of rolling to the next car, the spokes of the wheel started bending.

"Gogogogogo," Buffy said, shoving Amelia toward the side of some Haunted House looking thing as one of the cars from the top sudden arced down to land on the ground next to them.

They watched from their relatively space spot as the spokes kept bending until all the cars were on the ground. Then, with a horrendous screech, the middle broke free of its restraining base and rose up until it the whole thing resembled nothing so much as a big metal spider. Confirming this mental image, it took a lumbering step forward, it car-foot making the ground shake slightly as it landed.

"Well, that's going to make this a little harder," Amelia mumbled before darting out into the open.

She grabbed at one of the stationary legs and yanked the door open, revealing a forest with winged monkeys.

"Amelia, what are you doing?"

"We still need to find her!" Amelia yelled, grabbing for the moving handle of the next car.

"She could be in any of those," Buffy argued, darting out next to her and watching the legs warily. Luckily they moved slowly, giving them plenty of time to get out of the way.

"Just because we can't see her when we peek in doesn't mean she's not in there," Buffy continued. "Plus, we've got company…"

Appearing by the backside of one of the small roller-coasters, two vampires paused to look up at the lumbering Ferris wheel with wide eyes before darting toward them. Buffy stepped in front of Amelia, thankful when both the vampires focused their attention on her instead of following the Sunnydale Rules of Engagement - waiting their turn patiently or attacking whoever else was close by.

She took a glancing blow from the blond vamp on her right, and gave the other a kick to the ribs while her eyes scanned the area for their buddies. She couldn't protect Amelia like this. She had to get them somewhere less open, somewhere Amelia could have a chance at hiding or at least making it harder to be a snack.

A building behind the still roaming aracno wheel o' death caught her eye. After giving one vamp a disorienting triple punch to the face and kicking the other one so that he barely missed getting squished by the nearest car, Buffy grabbed Amelia's wrist and dragged her toward the House of Mirrors. The Ferris wheel kept wandering in the other direction, much to Buffy's relief - it would kinda ruin her bid for safety if the building they chose ended up getting trampled…

She shoved Amelia as soon as they reached the entrance, sending her stumbling in amongst the first group of mirrors and making her give Buffy a half annoyed, half worried look over her shoulder.

"Go!" Buffy barked, waving her off. "I'll take care of these guys, you just keep yourself alive."

She barely got out her sigh of relief when Amelia actually listened before the two vamps were on her. She let the one take her down, drawing her stake at the same time and jamming it in his chest as she hit the ground on her back and rolled them both into a backwards summersault. Really, it was his own fault, he should've been more careful. When she jumped to her feet to face the other vampire, she found herself faced with image after image of herself instead. She didn't think the first vamp's hit had taken her that far into the mirror house, but she couldn't see the entrance anymore.

More wary of her surroundings now than the threat of the missing vampire, Buffy turned in a slow circle, taking in her own reflection again and again. She spared a brief moment to lament the Faith-like leather look she was sporting, along with her monster-drool-dampened hair. What she wouldn't give for a shower and some comfy sweats right then…

She took a few steps further into the maze (at least she _thought_ it was further in), glancing behind her again as she went.

When she faced forward again, Rasul was staring back at her from a mirror.

Or it _had _been a mirror… Hadn't it? Hadn't she just seen herself in that space a second ago?

"Rasul," she said, lowering her stake and resisting the urge to rub her eyes. "What are you-"

That was as far as she got before he backhanded her.

She crashed into the mirror behind her with a bone rattling thud, sinking to one knee in disorientation for a second since she'd been expecting to crash _through_ the damn thing instead of just kind of bouncing off of it.

"Hello, Buffy," Rasul said cheerily, his booted feet approaching at a leisurely pace.

Buffy's eyes swept up from his feet, taking in his usual black tactical pants and matching tee. It wasn't until she reached his face that her mind realized what was happening here.

"You're not him," she said, relief coloring her words. The clothes and the voice were right, but those cold, cruel eyes weren't Rasul's.

"Are you so sure?" He growled with a smirk.

She came out of her crouch swinging, catching him off guard with a right hook before he skipped back out of reach.

"Hell yeah, I'm sure," she said, certainty lining her words like steel.

He laughed then, an awful parody of her friend's mischievous amusement.

"Denial is a girl's best friend," he sing-songed lightly before sneering condescendingly. "It's really a wonder you've survived this far with all that you simply _refuse_ to see. The old saying about god favoring children and fools must actually have some truth to it."

He (and his twelve freaking reflections) took a step toward her. She took two back, trying to find somewhere a little more open, a little less damn _distracting_, for this fight. It made things hard enough that whatever this was was wearing Rasul's face, did she really have to see him from a different angle everywhere she looked, too?

"Look at you, trying to run away from what's right in front of you _again_?" NotRasul asked with a headshake of disappointment as Buffy took another step back. "I think it's time for a wake-up call, Buffy."

He darted forward, grabbing her shoulders and slamming her into another mirror. Dark eyes drilled into her own, cold and ruthless, but damn, they really were the exact right shade. Even the tiny scar just under his left ear was there. The particular spicy musk that was Rasul's and Rasul's alone caressed her senses, freezing her in place as doubt started digging its boney fingers into her chest.

"Friends tell each other the truth, right? That's how you think of me, right? Maybe I should just let you keep thinking that," he said, cocking his head slightly and giving her a pitying look. "Let you keep thinking that you and I are just best buds. That every time I look at you I'm not imagining fucking you into the ground. That whenever we're hanging out or watching a movie, I'm not really thinking about what it would be like to be devour you, feel you inside and out, to taste your blood while I pound away..."

Buffy's breath stuttered as he nuzzled the side of her face. _NotRasulNotRasulNotRasul_, she reminded herself, trying to push away the doubts and the questions. Shaking hands shot up and shoved him off of her. He hit the mirror across from her and just smiled, just leaning back and hooking his thumbs in his pockets as he went on.

"And it might be _really_ cruel of me to tell you it's inevitable you'll turn to me. That things with Northman couldn't possibly work out because he's falling in love with you-"

"Shut up," Buffy said, nails biting into her hands as they clenched into tight fists.

"And we all know what happens when someone loves Buffy, right?" He sing-songed again. "You'll run. You always run. You've _already_ started running, you just haven't realized it yet. And when that other shoe drops? And you realize that _you_ love _him_? That's like the ultimate kiss of death, isn't it? And here, in this place, where you don't even _belong?_ But you just keep on going with your blinders… Sure everything's going to work out just _fine_. It's only right that I, your _friend_, clue you in."

He cocked his head questioningly, a nasty grin playing at the corners of his mouth.

"What do you think, Buffy? Should I tell you all those things? On the other hand, maybe ignorance really is bliss…"

And so Buffy did the only thing she could right then - she punched him in the face.

Not!Rasul fell back laughing. "Maybe not, then."

She didn't have time for whatever game was going on here. This wasn't Rasul, she knew that - that made him potential dust.

"No, please, go on," Buffy said, pulling out her stake. "In fact, you making your last words all about me makes me feel downright warm and fuzzy."

She took a step forward and instead of backing away, he stepped forward to meet her, grin melting into a sneer.

"Going to stake me, Buf? Then whose chain would you jerk around? There'd only be Northman, no one to play him off of. No one to make you feel more important that you really-"

Buffy's booted foot to his gut cut his words off.

"I changed my mind, Chatty Cathy, enough talk," she growled, following up her kick with a left hook.

NotRasul didn't even take a second to recover, just grabbed her arm before she had time to pull it back and yanked her off her feet. After a moment of weightlessness, she hit the ground and rolled twice, springing to her feet, stake at ready.

From the corner of her eye, she saw something not her and not NotRasul. Risking a quick glance, she was flooded at relief at the sight of Amelia. That relief fled as a man stepped into view, staring down at her friend with contempt.

"-never be anything without me and my name."

She barely caught the words and the half defiant, half stricken look on Amelia's face before NotRasul was distracting her with a kick that almost took her head off.

"Okay, that's it," Buffy huffed, dodging to the side and springing to her feet. "I have stuff to do."

"I'll give you something to do," he leered, eyes tracking down her body.

Buffy didn't bother to answer, that look on Amelia's face driving her forward with a purpose as she traded a flurry of blows with Not Rasul. The Slayer in her, glad to be let loose for a moment, took less than a minute to find a fatal opening.

The sound of her stake sinking in with a squelch was surprisingly loud and she found her own eyes widening and staring into his. The shocked and betrayed look on his face was like a stake to her own chest, leaving her breathless and panicked with "what-have-I-done"s for a second. She took a reflexive step back, stake coming free as she went with a gush of crimson. He fell to his knees, coughing out a hurt "Buffy" along with a mouthful of blood before crashing face first to the floor. The mirrors gave Buffy a view of his body from every angle, including two with accusing eyes staring back at her.

_It's not him_, she told herself harshly turning away and wiping Mr. Pointy off with slightly shaking hands. _He's at home in New Orleans. This is NOT him._ Done scolding herself and locking what she'd just done away in a box to be dealt with some time when she _wasn't_ wandering around a witchy fun house of death, she forced herself to ignore NotRasul's body so she could get back to Amelia.

Except Amelia wasn't there anymore.

"You've gotta be kidding me," she breathed in irritation, throwing her hands out slightly.

Running her hands along the walls of mirrors and glass, Buffy wandered further into (or maybe out of? Her sense of direction was sketchy when she _wasn't_ dealing with a mirrored maze) the building. Five minutes later she was standing over NotRasul's body again, tapping her foot in irritation. As she turned to try a different direction, she was surprised to see Hadley in the same spot Amelia had been in earlier. But instead of the man Amelia had been talking to, Hadley was face to face with Sophie Anne and a little boy.

Sophie Anne's lips were moving, but she was talking too quietly for Buffy to make out the words. She didn't need to hear them to know they were cutting though - all she had to do was look at Hadley's face. She looked completely heartbroken. The little boy standing with Sophie Anne stepped toward Hadley and tugged on her hand with one of his tiny ones, saying something and looking up at the dark haired vampire with a sad expression that had Hadley dropping to her knees in front of him.

Whatever was going on in this freaky mirrored nightmare maze was _so_ not good. She needed to get all of them out of there _now_.

"Hadley!" Buffy yelled, banging on the glass separating them.

When Hadley didn't so much as twitch, she pulled back her foot in a fit of anger and kicked the stubbornly unbreakable glass as hard as she could. All that managed to accomplish was making her leg go numb for a few seconds. Cursing, she spun toward an opening in the mirrors to the left, trying to find another way through. She rushed around her own reflection once, twice and on the third turn smacked into something just as hard as the mirrors and glass but decidedly more lumpy.

Shaking out her disorientation, she stumbled back a few steps and looked up. And up. And up.

Right into Eric's furious gaze.

Fangs flashed and a growl echoed off the walls around them. Then he attacked.

* * *

><p>Eric stood at the entrance of the house, eyebrows climbing as he took in the massive space and the wandering metal beast below. The air reeked of magic, making his lip curl back in distrust. A witch obviously lived here - a very, very powerful witch. He was having his doubts as to the truth of the rumors of Buffy being her even more now. What would she be seeking out a witch for? That red-headed friend of hers was already obscenely powerful, she had no need to look any further for whatever she needed…<p>

He debated just turning and leaving as he watched the last of Vasquez's men disappear into the bizarre carnival below. The last thing he needed was another run in with a witch.

The thing that stopped him was the realization that Vasquez might be reckless, but he wasn't stupid either. He wouldn't have gone down into the witch's territory without reason. He must've seen something, perhaps whomever they were chasing, and decided it was worth the risk.

With a long-suffering sigh and thoughts of somehow planting a tracking device on Buffy the next time he saw her, he cautiously followed the steps down. The metal giant was slow and cumbersome, not an immediate threat, so he mostly dismissed it from his mind in favor or more pressing matters - like the remains of one of Vasquez's men he found just beyond a fortune telling booth. Eric's mouth tightened as he warily took in his surroundings again, two vampires were dead already, he didn't want to be the third.

Weaving his way through the tents and ramshackle buildings, Eric avoided the meandering Ferris wheel with ease while keeping an eye out for any sign of life. It wasn't until he was passing the House of Mirrors that something caught his eye - a foot, visible just beyond the entrance.

The building, just like all the others, reeked of magic, making him reluctant to go in. He stopped in the doorway, close enough to identify the body as another of Vasquez's men but not stepping fully inside. Just as he was ready to turn back, he caught another scent. Faint and almost buried under the oppressing smell of magic, it was still enough to make him stop in his tracks, eyes closing in vexation.

Buffy.

So, she really was there then. He wasn't sure if he should be relieved this wasn't a complete waste of time or furious over her reckless actions and secrecy. Stepping fully inside, he felt magic wash over him, making his skin tingle uncomfortably. Her scent seemed stronger inside, but also more spread out - impossible to follow.

He moved silently through the maze, disliking the way his reflection gave away his whereabouts to anyone in the vicinity. Buffy's smell dispersed the further in he went, replaced with the increasingly heavy scent of magic. A crash and the sound of scrambling came from somewhere to his left and he stilled. A moment later another of Vasquez's men came careening around a corner, so busy looking behind him that he ran right into Eric and the stake he'd leisurely pulled from his pocket.

Eric barely spared him a glance as he stepped by his falling body, yanking the stake free as he went. The now dead vampire had obviously been running from something and whatever that was was Eric's immediate concern. But as he stood there and listened, there was nothing. Moving forward cautiously, he went around the corner, braced for anything, but again, there was nothing but his own reflection staring back at him.

He had no doubt there was something sinister in there (besides him, that was) - anything a witch poured this much power into was obviously, as Buffy would say, "of the bad". His lips quirked slightly at the thought of her. Damn if wasn't looking forward to seeing her, even if she'd caused him eight kinds of hell this evening.

He got his wish when he rounded the next corner.

There, leaning against a mirror with her shoulder, one leg crossed lazily over and picking at her nails with a wickedly curved dagger, was Buffy.

"Well, well, look what the cat dragged in," she said without even looking up, her voice slow and completely unsurprised. "Stalking's a really unattractive quality, you know."

He smirked as he approached, amused that she'd said exactly what he'd been thinking she'd say. She certainly was a sight to behold, wearing a pair of red leather pants and a black corset – something he'd readily admit to having wished to see her in numerous times. His mouth watered as he leaned in over her, resting an arm above her head and looking down at her gleaming blond hair.

"If you'd simply told me what you were-"

Eric stopped suddenly as a wave of pain crashed over him. His eyes tracked away from the top of Buffy's head to his stomach, where her dagger was now jutting from his stomach. Slowly, her eyes turned up and met his own shocked ones. Well-known green was obscured with flecks of yellow, remembered in snatches like a nightmare from the time he'd fed her his blood the first time in that graveyard.

"I'm so fucking sick of you and your needy, clingy bullshit," she said coldly as she twisted the blade in his stomach before punching him in the face.

He stumbled back, hand flying to his stomach as the blade was wrenched free. It wasn't so much the wound that bothered him – it was nothing more than superficial for a vampire – it was the complete shock and, though he was loathe to admit it, _betrayal_ he felt that had him so disoriented in this turn of events.

"Aw, look, you're like a pathetic little puppy, left out in the rain," she cooed, running a finger through the blood on her blade before bringing it to her mouth and licking it off erotically. "Too bad I was always more of a cat person."

She came after him with a speed that shouldn't have been surprising, since he'd seen it before, but still managed to take him off guard. The blade she was wielding made two more deep slices before he started fighting back. This was different – this wasn't the animalistic version he'd seen at the graveyard. That had been something dark and ruled by instinct. This… This was still Buffy, but… _not_. A cruel smile tilted her lips on one side, cold eyes staring back at him as they traded blows.

The smell of her, though… And the familiar freckle under her jaw…

She took advantage of his moment of inattention grab his arm and pull him forward while she drove a knee into the stab wound. His other arm shot out at her throat, but she was already spinning behind him, hand still wrapped around his wrist in an iron grip.

"You're underperforming. What's the matter, lover? I thought you liked it rough?" She purred in his ear, twisting his arm up with a snap.

_This isn't Buffy._

The thought was just as jarring as the breaking of his arm. However she looked or smelled, this wasn't her. Buffy never called him '_lover_'. That was a favorite phrase of Eric's, not hers - one that he'd dropped early on because of the look it caused her to get. There was some connotation with the word that caused her pain - she wouldn't use it so easily.

He surged upward and back, using his height against her and ignoring the pain as the bones in his arm grated together. She stumbled back, releasing her grip on his arm. He spun to face her, but she just stood there with this maniacal grin on her face. How could he have ever thought his was his Buffy?

"Who are you?" He asked, yanking his already healing bones back in position while keeping his eyes on her.

"Who am I? Wow, that's pretty insulting," she pouted. "Oh, I get it… You think I'm not me? Because I hurt you? I thought you liked that? You do keep coming back for more, after all."

She moved toward him slowly and he countered by sliding to the left, causing them to circle each other in the small space.

"Maybe it's time I use this," she said thoughtfully, pulling a stake from her pocket. "And put this silly little game of ours to rest once and for all."

Eric stayed quiet. Engaging this… _thing _was pointless. It was some conjuration formed by the magic in this place, using his own mind against him.

Seemingly reading his thoughts, she gave a nasty smile.

"Makes you feel better, huh? Thinking I'm someone else? Because you think I care about you?" She laughed. "The way I try to ditch you every time you turn around wasn't clue enough to what's going on here, Eric? I just wanted a good fuck every once and a while. That's it. I'm so sick of you hounding me like some pathetic, desperate loser."

_Hounding_ her? That was just-

Eric shook his head. He shouldn't be listening to any of this – it was absurd. And this wasn't Buffy. Sure, he liked to know where she was, what she was doing, who she was with, what she was wearing, what she was thinking - but that didn't mean he was _hounding_-

His inattention was rewarded by a very sharp stake flying at him.

He moved just in time – the pointed wood sinking into his shoulder instead of his heart. He snarled as he yanked it out and sent it skittering across the polished floor away from them. He needed to end this now. She might not be his Buffy, but she was still dangerous. If he wanted to get out there in one piece, he needed to take her down quickly.

The following fight was dirty and fast – if it had been under any other circumstances he would've enjoyed it immensely. As it was, Buffy's mocking laughter, cutting remarks and lethal blows were anything but fun. Currently, he was staring up at the mirrored ceiling as his broken ribs knitted back together, trying to convince himself that thinking he'd be stuck in this hell-hole, fighting Buffy's doppelganger forever, was irrational.

When he didn't hear footsteps stalking toward him, eager to take advantage of his splayed position on the ground, he glanced to where he'd been kicked from. The other Buffy was gone. Raising an eyebrow, he climbed to his feet, taking in all the mirrors warily, hoping to catch sight of her. But there was nothing…

He moved silently through a few turns, watching the mirrors intently so he wouldn't be ambushed. The scuffing of shoes behind him had him whirling around, crouched and ready for an attack, but again there was nothing there. Irritated, he turned around again, hoping he'd eventually run into the exit and be able to abort his battle to the death with the look-a-like of the woman he- The woman he was sleeping with.

His annoyance spiked suddenly. He hated that this _thing_ had managed to make him question what between Buffy and him. That it had managed to feed seeds of doubt into what he'd been so sure of before. With a growl, he turned the next corner.

Only to have said monstrosity run right into him.

It looked up at him with Buffy's wide eyes, now more green than they were before – most likely in a new attempt to throw him off. He felt his lip curl up in fury, a snarl ripping out of him as he launched himself at her.

The fake Buffy had changed tactics – it was more defensive than offensive this time around. Most likely hoping to take advantage of any doubts or reservations he had about killing it while it looked and acted more like the real Buffy. Eric kept up his assault though, determined not to let any kind of sentimentality trip him up. Not that it seemed to be helping any. Her moves, while only in defense, were somehow stronger and less predictable. Just when he finally thought he had an opening and snatched for her throat with his hand, she surprised him by throwing herself into a backflip, her foot catching him in the chin and sending him careening backwards where he slammed against a mirror and stumbled, falling against a corner and losing sight of her while he tried to regain his balance.

She was gone when he righted himself.

He let out a tight growl while he rubbed away the lingering ache of his jaw realigning, eyes searching for her among the mirrors but there was nothing but his own blood flecked image staring back.

It suddenly occurred to him that maybe the only way to get out of there was to kill that thing…

He set off again with new purpose, determined to find and end the thing impersonating Buffy.

* * *

><p>First NotRasul and now NotEric? This place was seriously pissing her off. Buffy rubbed at her sore ribs and wiped a dribble of blood from her split lip – NotEric was not screwing around. She shot another look behind her, making sure he wasn't creeping up on her. When she turned back around, she came face to face with the first not mirror or glass wall she'd seen in there – a wooden door.<p>

The way it appeared from nowhere didn't faze her, it seemed like everything in there liked to disappear and reappear where and when ever it wanted. She approached it cautiously – while she was happy for some new scenery, she didn't trust anything in there. Looking closer at the out of place wooden door didn't really make her feel any better – weird symbols and terrifying images were carved along its surface and the handle was shaped like a screaming face.

Buffy reached out slowly, hand closing over the strangely warm door knob and turning it slowly, sure she was making a mistake but somehow not able to stop herself either. Inside there weren't any winged monkeys or dinosaurs or drooling beasts, luckily. The entire room was pitch black except for the very middle where a glass enclosed pedestal sat, lit from an unseen spotlight source above it. Curious, Buffy stepped into the dark room, eyes locked on the stand and the little golden object sitting in its center.

The pedestal itself was engraved much like the door had been with strange and disturbing sigils and images, even the glass had barely visible, opaque writing all on it. And there, nestled in the center was a tiny golden cufflink shaped like a goat.

Buffy snorted at the randomness of it and leaned closer for a better look, resting a hand slightly against the glass as she peered down at it. Yep, it was a goat. A kinda evil looking little goat with horns…

Shaking her head, Buffy backed out of the room, a little mad at herself for having wasted time there. She had just closed the door tightly behind her when a sudden wave of vertigo hit her. She swayed slightly and closed her eyes, willing her stomach to calm down. Things tonight had been crappy enough without adding puke to list.

When she opened her eyes she was standing outside the house of mirrors. And she wasn't alone - Amelia was sprawled on the ground to her left and Hadley was half kneeling to her right.

"What the hell kind of mind fuckery was_ that_?" Hadley whispered, staring out into nothing.

"The kind meant for people wandering places they aren't meant to be," a high-pitched slightly accented voice said from behind them.

Buffy and Hadley spun around; Amelia just kind of flailed and rolled over on her stomach before scrambling to her feet.

"Now, would you like to tell me why you're wandering around in my home, or shall I kill you first?"

Both Hadley and Buffy's brows scrunched up and they glanced at each other. Kill them 'first'? Buffy shoved that weird word choice out of her mind and instead took in the woman that must be Fern. A good four or five inches shorter than Buffy, she was practically shapeless in layer upon layer of clothing. Festively adorned in floaty skirts of different lengths, brightly colored shirts, dangling necklaces and bracelets almost up to her elbows, she had this homeless-hippy chic thing going for her. Straight, dark hair was cut into a blunt bob at her ears, accentuating delicate features and dark eyes – which were currently glaring at them.

"Um, well, we were looking for you, actually," Buffy said.

"Looking for me, or looking to s_teal_ from me," she sneered before turning to her left and yelling, "Will you SHUT UP!"

Oh, just freaking _great_. She should've known the witch would be off her rocker – she _did _have a multi-dimensional _carnival_ inside her house after all…

"We weren't stealing from you!" Amelia blurted, taking a step forward.

Buffy cringed a little as Fern's undivided attention fell on Amelia. From next to her she heard Hadley mutter fatalistically, "That's it, we're all gonna die now…"

"You're a witch…" Fern said with a head tilt.

"I am," Amelia said, puffing up. "And I have to tell you how impressed-"

"You're the one that set my roof on fire."

"Uh- well, you see, I didn't take into consideration the dimensional wards-"

"So, not a very good witch then," Fern said, dismissing a slumped Amelia and looking at Hadley.

"And a vampire, and," her eyes ticked to Buffy and her head tilted slightly. "…what are you?"

"I'm Buffy," she said with an innocent shrug. "And I came to ask you for some help with Wolfram and Hart."

Fern's lips pulled back from her teeth and Buffy almost expected her to hiss.

"What do you know of them?"

Buffy hesitated, suddenly realizing that having Hadley here was a mistake. She really didn't want to go blabbing about how she was from another dimension in front of Sophie Anne's girlfriend, even if they were having issues right then. There was no guarantee that they wouldn't get back together and Hadley would run her mouth.

Buffy looked back at Fern, realizing that her gaze had drifted uncertainly to Hadley, who was looking at something to the left with her head cocked. Fern, though, hadn't missed her tell and with a wave of her hand Hadley and Amelia's eyes rolled up and they collapsed.

"Hey!" Buffy barked, dropping to her knees next to Amelia.

"They're fine, just unconscious. You didn't wish for them to hear this part did you? Though why you decided to bring them in the first place when you wanted to be so secretive is beyond me."

"I didn't really decide to-"

"Hang on," Fern said, holding up a finger. "THEN KILL THEM!"

Buffy's eyes widened. "I'm not going to _kill_ them-"

"I wasn't talking to you," Fern snapped, looking off to the left. "I'm busy! Take care of it! Now what did you want?"

Buffy looked at her blankly until Fern raised her eyebrows. "Well?"

"Oh, you're taking to me now?"

"Yes," Fern breathed with an eye roll. "Tell me what you know of the Wolf, the Ram and the Hart and why you think I can help you."

"I'm actually not originally from this dimension," Buffy said hesitantly, not liking telling this crazy witch she didn't know her business, but not having a plausible lie either.

"That much is obvious," Fern said with an impatient hand twirl. "Get on with it."

"Where I'm from, Wolfram and Hart are a big problem – and they have their sights set on a friend of mine. I heard that the witches here did some kind of spell that kept them out and, well, I was hoping you could tell me how to do it."

"And how did you know to come to _me_?"

"I didn't. Yours was just the first name I came across," Buffy said vaguely, not wanting to get Amelia's mentor in trouble.

"So fate, perhaps," Fern said thoughtfully. "What do you have in your pocket?"

The random subject change caught Buffy off guard and she dug into her pocket without really thinking it through, pulling out her ring a second later. She regretted it immediately at the way Fern's lit up upon seeing it. Her fingers twitched with the urge to close over the ring as Fern stepped close, eyes riveted to the lightly gleaming object.

"Oh yes, now this, this was made by a true witch. Why on any earth would you chose _this one_," she wave at Amelia. "To accompany you if you had access to such talent?"

"I need that spell," Buffy said flatly, stuffing the ring back in her pocket. She didn't want to hear this woman insulting Amelia or digging about Willow. She was tired, sticky with monster spit, and sore from getting her ass kicked by two NotPeopleSheCaredAbout. Time to move things along.

"And I'm not talking about this to a novice," Fern countered. "If you want the spell, then the one that made that ring will have to come meet with me to get it."

Buffy tensed. "I don't think-"

"Nonnegotiable."

They stared at each other a moment – Fern unmoved and unblinking, Buffy gritting her teeth.

"She tried meeting with some witches here already," Buffy admitted grudgingly. "They wouldn't talk to her."

"I'm not other witches," Fern said with a slightly feral grin.

That much was obvious. Buffy didn't really want to bring Willow back into this at all, let alone putting her in the path of someone as freaky as Fern. But did she have any choice?

"Fine, I'll see what I can do," she said, needing time to think. "Can you wake them up so we go now?"

She looked at Buffy a moment longer before waving her hand. On the ground, Amelia and Hadley stirred.

"I have a question..." Buffy asked as the two started sitting up. "The house of mirrors... That wasn't..."

"A security measure. Whatever you're trying not to think about the most is what manifests. It's funny how people can fight through fire and monsters, but they'll crumble when faced with themselves," Fern said with a shrug, watching Amelia and Hadley get up.

"What the fuck," Hadley grunted, staggering to her feet. "Did that fucking witch just-"

"Fainted!" Buffy blurted. "You just fainted. Amelia, too. At the same time. Fainted."

Hadley's face twisted into a snarl, but just as she was about to say something that would probably end up with all of them turned into blobs of jam, something dark and low to the ground darted out from behind a nearby tent and came rushing at them. Buffy tensed, ready to fight, but it just slid to a stop at their feet.

"Oh my god…" Buffy breathed in horror at the thing staring up at them.

It was one of those tiny wolves from earlier – with one major difference. This one had a human face. A very _familiar _human face.

"Holy crap," Amelia said, eyes wide, "Is that… _Jake_?"

The thing gave a morose yip.

Hadley's hand snatched him up by the scruff of his neck, leaving him dangling in front of her face as she studied him.

"You sorry shit. You did this on purpose, didn't you? Thought you might be able to turn again if you got bitten by another Were. Well, you got your wish," Hadley snickered nastily. "Being a vampire doesn't seem so bad now, does it?"

Buffy couldn't seem to tear her eyes away from the sight of a tiny version of Jake's face on the little fluffy wolf body. She'd seem some seriously wiggy stuff in her day, but this totally took the cake. There might be nightmares…

"I have an additional condition," Fern said suddenly, then nodded at Jake. "I get to keep him."

Buffy opened her mouth to argue – she couldn't just _add _conditions. But before she could, Hadley said "Okay" without missing a beat and just handed Jake over.

"Gotta take one for the team – you know how it is," Hadley said, giving the wide eyed Jake a shrug as she backed away.

"Hadley! You can't just-"

"What am _I_ going to do with him? I'd have to buy a leash and a collar and what if he's not housebroken? I'd lose my security deposit with Amelia." Then she added under her breath for Buffy's ears only, "And do you really want _Amelia_ trying to change him back? He has a better shot with the crazy one than the incompetent one."

Buffy sucked in a breath and then just let it back out with a whoosh when she realized she didn't really have an argument. Maybe if she decided to let Willow meet with other witch, she'd ask her to check on Jake, see what she could do. A bunch of girls on motorcycles with a freaky dog-man wouldn't be very inconspicuous…

"Fine," Buffy sighed. "But you'd better take good care of him."

"Of course I will," Fern cooed, snuggling Jake to her chest.

With that disturbing image burned into her brain, Buffy and her two partners in crime left the Carnival of Crazy – Amelia informing Hadley along the way that she lost her security deposit when she got fire bombed.

* * *

><p>Eric cursed violently as he ran for the exit, a pack of snarling minusculus lupi in hot pursuit. He'd used up too much energy in healing during his foray in the mirror maze to waste on flying until it was absolutely necessary.<p>

He could see Vasquez running just as hard to his right.

Just minutes earlier he'd found himself dumped unceremoniously outside the maze along with Vasquez and another vampire. They'd barely gotten over the disorientation of the sudden change of venue when the furry little terrors came zipping around a corner, barreling at them in eerie, determined silence and taking out the third vampire before they had much of a chance to do anything at all. Vasquez and Eric had ignored each other in favor of running – until now.

"You're the one from California," Vasquez said as they burst out of the front door into the night air, recognition flashing across his face. "What the hell are you doing here?"

Instead of answering, Eric lunged sideways, one hand grabbing Vasquez's arm and the other swinging his stake downwards - he couldn't allow him to leave this place after having seen him. Vasquez was quick though and managed to dodge sideways enough that the stake sunk into the center of his chest instead of into his heart. Eric didn't waste a second bemoaning his bad luck though, instead he kicked low and hard, hearing a satisfying snap as Vasquez's leg bent in the wrong direction and he dropped with a howl. Eric barely had time to launch himself into the air before the wolves fell on the other vampire in a feeding frenzy.

He flew unsteadily toward the main road, hoping to find that Vasquez had left his keys in the ignition – he didn't think he'd be able to fly more than a few miles in his current condition. As he brushed over the tree tops, he berated himself for the night's events. He shouldn't have ever come here. It was a complete waste of time. And worse than that, he could still hear the words of the Buffy look-a-like echoing in his ears.

He'd been a fool in more ways than one…

* * *

><p>Inside the small room concealed in the maze of mirrors, a symbol etched into the glass flickered, light streaks of blue dancing over its curves and lines as the oil from a single fingerprint smudged its edge. It flashed one final time, almost in desperation, before turning black.<p>

Elsewhere, in a Hell dimension far, far away, three sets of black eyes snapped open in surprise.

"Well, I do believe things just got more interesting," a soft voice said as he tapped long elegant fingers against a conference table.


	44. Chapter 44

_Author's Note_: Is this- Is this an _update_?! IT IS! *fans the readers that have fainted from shock* Seriously though, I can't apologize enough for how long this has taken. My dad passed away last year, so it was a while before I felt like writing again. His passing also left me with a lot of new responsibilities, so actually find the time to write has been unbelievably hard. But we're closing in on the end of CfB now, and I have every intention of finishing it – I've come too far on it to give up now! Thank you all for your amazing reviews/PMs, they seriously kept me going on this. Every kind word of support made me sit down whenever I could, even if it was only for a sentence or a paragraph at a time, and get a little more done. I hope you'll stick with me to the end, even if it takes a little longer than you and I would like.

Also, no beta. And my editing might be even sketchier than usual, so feel free to point out mistakes – I'm sure there're plenty to go around…

**Chapter Forty-four**

Buffy stared at the array of weapons spread out over her bed, trying to decide what she _needed_ to take with her and what she just _wanted _to take with her. Because, as awesome as a broadsword was, lugging one around the city wasn't really an option. Weirdness might be the order for the day, every day, in New Orleans, but someone walking down a street with giant bladed weapons would still draw attention.

Probably.

No, no, definitely. She shook her head and removed the sword from temptation by sticking it in the closet.

She'd hoped that after telling Sophie-Anne about how it was her that had killed Waldo and not Threadgill that the brewing war between Arkansas and Louisiana would be called off, or at least simmer down. But, while Sophie-Anne _had_ sounded surprised when she'd called her –

_"You didn't think it necessary to inform me that you'd killed a vampire in my city?" _

_"Seriously? Every single time?" _

_"…what?" _

_"…uhhh. Nothing. Nevermind..."_

- she'd ultimately just shrugged it off. It seemed Mr. Hubby had been naughty enough for a little thing like a missing employee not to make much of a difference – Sophie-Anne was still expecting a fight tonight at the Monastery Vampire Bash.

Buffy made sure she had three stakes, knives stashed in both boots and a tiny hatchet secured in a cargo pocket. After one last longing look at the closet and a secret wish for her scythe, she cleared away the rest of the fun pointy objects and sat heavily on her bed.

She wished an impending war was the only thing she had to worry about…

Unfortunately, her personal life was currently like a warzone itself. Things with Rasul had been strained during the few days she'd been back from Kentucky. After a stilted apology for how he'd acted, he'd slipped back into his regular playful self, but part of Buffy was stuck on the mirror image of him her own mind had conjured up in the witch's funhouse. She knew it wasn't really him, but she couldn't seem to help being equal parts wary and guilty. His crude words about how he really felt echoed in her ears while she saw the look of death and betrayal on his face again and again when she'd staked him.

Or Not-Him.

Whatever. The guilt wasn't really distinguishing between the two.

It left her in the awkward position of wanting to push him away and pull him closer at the same time. Needless to say, he'd looked more than a little bewildered at her bipolar behavior the last few days.

Then there was Eric…

She'd tried calling him twice since she'd been back - he hadn't answered and hadn't returned her calls either.

To make it worse, she _knew_ he was in town at this very moment. Sophie-Anne had told her he'd be at the party tonight which would be starting within the hour, so he was already in the city somewhere. He was just ignoring her.

Not that she didn't _deserve_ to be ignored.

The drive back had given Buffy plenty of time to go over what NotRasul/her own mind had told her about her feelings and actions toward Eric. The thought of which still caused a guilt-fueled cringe on her part, which she gave into now as she flopped backwards onto her bed.

She needed to make a decision about him. It just wasn't fair to keep up this "Yeah, I want you, but leave me alone" thing. So, what was it she r_eally_ wanted? She blinked up at the ceiling and sighed, because the answer was Eric. As much as she'd tried to hide from it, she'd been falling for him. And while she'd been telling herself that his behavior was more about control than caring, part of her apparently disagreed if the dialogue her mind had given to NotRasul was anything to go by.

So, this was it, decision time. Either give in to her trust issues and cut him loose, or decide to go all in with this thing between them and give it a real chance instead of this push and pull, back and forth thing they'd been doing.

The thought of never seeing him again made something clench in her chest, but there was also a kind of bitter resignation under it. Her mouth curled down angrily. Had she really gotten so jaded about love that she'd just given up before it really started? Just accepted that eventually it would fall apart?

Well, screw that. She could be positive. She could dive into a new relationship and believe it could work out.

…What? She could!

Buffy gave a pouty little whine and threw her arm over her eyes. Saying she could do it and actually doing it were two different things. But… She really wanted to try. And she _would_ damn it! She'd just explain to Eric that she was a relationship nut job, but that she wanted to work at really building something with him and he'd... Oh, god, he'd probably kick her crazy ass to the curb.

A knock at her door interrupted her downward spiral and, after a moment of confusion, had her springing up with an eager bounce. It was probably Eric! He must've decided to stop by on the way to the party. This was her chance to straighten things out and apologize for being such a spaz!

Buffy bounded to the door like a manic gazelle and whipped it open with what she realized a second too late was an embarrassing amount of enthusiasm. She stilled suddenly at the sight of a blond stranger on the other side, blinking slowly as disappointment welled up in her.

"You should wear that stupid face all the time – it's fitting," the woman sniped as she shoved past the now idiotically gaping Buffy. "But I don't have much time, so get your shit together."

"Hadley?" Buffy asked, the familiar voice bringing her back to her senses. "What are you- why – how?"

Hadley spun and pulled the blond wig from her head, leaning against the back of Buffy's sofa.

"Thing is so fucking _itchy_," she grunted, scratching her head on the side where the hair was still growing back from the fire. "So, listen up, I don't have much time. The guards in the building are idiots, but if any of them go out in the hall, they'll probably recognize me by scent."

"How'd you even get in here?"

"Benefits of being the Queen's girlfriend- _ex_-girlfriend," she corrected with a shrug. "She gets chatty post-orgasm."

That was… disturbing. Both the thought that Sophie-Anne divulged details on building security while in bed and the mental image of Sophie-Anne and Hadley in bed at all. Kind of like picturing her mom and Cordelia getting- Oh god…

"What's with that face?"

"Nothing," Buffy blurted, shaking out the horrible, evil image. "So, why are you here again?"

In response, Hadley tugged up her sleeve revealing a stunning bracelet which she promptly unclasped and thrust at Buffy.

"I need you to get this back to Sophie."

Buffy, transfixed by the bling, took it from Hadley and barely resisted the urge to clutch it to her chest while cooing "My precious..."

"Sorry," she said, shaking her head slightly and peeling her gaze off the glittering diamonds. "What was that?"

"That. Back to Sophie. Like, _now_."

"'_Back_' to her?"

"So, I might've gotten a little klepto post break-up," Hadley huffed, her eyes skittering off to the side in what Buffy swore was embarrassment.

"So, what's the big? Just give it back to her."

"It's… It's a little complicated. This bracelet was part of a set that _Threadgill_," she hissed the name. "Gave her – a wedding gift. She'll be expected to wear it tonight and if she doesn't have it…"

"The 'missing thing'," Buffy groaned in realization, mind ticking back to Sophie-Anne's weird cryptic explanation in her office. "So her not having this is going to cause all kinds of badness?"

"Yeah, especially if it's proven that _I_ have it. They'll think that Sophie gave me, her lover, a gift from her husband."

"Okay, that's bad, but why are you waiting 'til the last minute like this? And why can't _you_ give it back to her?"

"I've tried!" Hadley said, throwing her hands up. "Threadgill's people keep ambushing me! I _know _it was them that burned up my fucking apartment. They're trying to keep me from fixing this because they want Sophie to look bad. I thought the whole Jake thing was their end game – that they'd pin his murder on me and cause all kinds of crap with the Weres, but I changed all that when I turned him."

"Then they figured out you had the bracelet…"

"I thought going to Kentucky would get them off my back - that they'd think I just ran for it. The night we got back, I tried to sneak over there and give Sophie the bracelet back, but they caught me. I barely got out of there and they've been on my ass every night since. There's no way I'll be able to get into that party unnoticed."

Buffy sat down heavily on the arm of the couch, pieces falling into place. Sophie Anne had been right – Threadgill wanted a war and wanted to make it seem as if he was right to start one.

"Even if I get this back to her…" Buffy started, glancing down at the jewel encrusted bracelet.

"I know, it probably won't help. If he's hell-bent on starting some shit then he'll probably do it anyway. But… I don't want it to be because of me," Hadley said, pushing away from the couch and out of Buffy's eye-line. "If something happens to her because-"

"I'll get it back to her," Buffy interrupted, a little wigged at hearing Hadley sounding remorseful and genuine. "I think… I have a plan…"

* * *

><p>The clicking of Buffy's heels on the sidewalk paused as she fought to tug down the skintight skirt again – the sound of more honking and whistling flooding out of the latest passing car disappearing off into the night. This… this just <em>sucked<em>. Hadley _so_ owed her. After spending all that time picking out weapons she could conceal on her walk here, she had to abandon that plan and put on _this._

Where had this even come from?! It _had_ to be a purchase from their drunken girls' night out. Probably Dawn's pick. And when she'd sobered up she'd probably stuck the whore-tastic getup in Buffy's closet. And, Buffy's eyes narrowed in realization, probably took something of Buffy's to make up for it…

She gave the tiny skirt another irritable yank and made sure her boobs hadn't popped out of the low-cut top before continuing on her way, wondering if she was actually going to be able to pull this off. As the corner that would spit her out near the monastery entrance approached, she let the skirt inch its way back up and gave her hair a quick fluff. She took a deep, steadying breath and forced her face out of its scowl and into a ditzy smile just before rounding the corner in view of the entrance.

She spotted Rasul immediately – one of four vampires standing guard. Beside him was one of what must've been Threadgill's men, dressed in a horrible ensemble of red, white and blue. Another vamp from opposing side manned the opposite side along with another of Sophie Anne's guards.

Turning her vacant gaze on what she could see of the monastery through the trees, she watched their heads swivel towards her in her peripheral vision. She kept up the gaping expression until she was only a few feet from them, then gave what she hoped looked like a drunken little stumble on her heels before finally looking right at them.

"Vampires," she breathed. "_Awesome…"_

From the way all of them but Rasul puffed up, she must've succeeded in sounding all wonderstruck.

"Private party, human," one of Threadgill's men said, sounding bored but looking her up and down. "Move along."

"Don't be so hasty, Martin. She smells delicious," Rasul said, giving Buffy a little smirk as he stepped forward so he was right in front of her. With his back to the opposing guards his eyebrow ticked up in question, but his smirk only became more devious.

"Delicious or no, the guests will be arriving soon. We can't have one of the local drunken sluts hanging about."

Something dark flashed in Rasul's eyes and his lip started to curl up in a snarl. Buffy, acting quickly before her plan could be ruined (because there was no way in hell she'd come out here in this skank-wear for _nothing_), strategically stumbled into Rasul, placing herself so he was blocking most of her from the other guards' view.

"That guy sounds like he's got something against having a little fun," she slurred, snuggling in close. "Not like _you_. You look like you know how to have a good time."

Rasul's attention shifted immediately back to her, anger shifting to surprise and then settling on amusement. He wrapped an arm around her waist, pressing her closer while his eyes dared her to complain.

"Oh yeah, this seems like lots of fun to me," he said smugly.

_Bad plan! Bad, bad plan!_ Buffy's internal alarm shrieked. She crushed it brutally and reminded herself to think of the bigger picture here, that whatever awkwardness this would cause later on between her and Rasul was a small price to pay.

The part that said this was a nummy treat and not a price at all was firmly and immediately squashed.

Feeling Rasul's hand start to creep south from her waist, Buffy decided that she needed to finish up this little operation like _now_. His hand paused in its descent as hers ran up his front, his eyes going wide as it left his body only to dip into her cleavage. Sure the movement was blocked by Rasul's body, she tugged the bracelet out, pressing it to his chest.

"Oh, this is nothing," she purred, her words keeping to the show while her eyes were serious and willing him to get it. "Why don't you let me show you what _real_ fun looks like."

She saw the recognition in Rasul's eyes immediately when he looked at the bracelet. The hand on her waist yanked her impossibly closer while the free one covered hers, squirreling the jewelry away inside his vest.

"It's nice to see the Queen picked such a _dedicated_ employee to welcome the guests," an all too familiar voice broke in from behind Rasul.

The faint but unmistakable wave of anger broke over Buffy's senses at the same time her gaze jerked to Eric, looking aloof and absolutely gorgeous in his tux. But while he looked bored as he stared at the two of them, still tangled together so closely that Buffy felt her face heat, she could tell that he was anything but unaffected by what he was seeing.

This… was a _horrible_ plan. She might actually have to stake Hadley for this. Here she'd finally made the decision to try at a real relationship with Eric, confessed to herself that she actually loved him, and very next time she sees him after that revelation he gets an eye full of _this._

Fan-freaking-tastic.

Buffy made a move to peel herself away from Rasul, but his arm tightened around her. There was a second of anger that didn't come from Eric, but from her own surety that Rasul was just trying to make things more difficult, before Rasul pinched her. Not a butt pinch or a sexy pinch, but the pinch her mom used to give her in the grocery store when she was a kid – the one that said, "I don't want to make a scene, but if you keep acting like a brat there'll be some butt-whooping consequences later."

Oh yeah, there was a reason for this situation… A very good, possibly war averting reason.

Settling back against Rasul with a mental prayer that she'd get to explain herself to Eric in the near future and he wouldn't kick metaphorical dirt on her apology, Buffy opened her mouth to spew more slutty drunk talk and reassert her role in this little play.

Rasul got there first.

"Don't be jealous, Northman," he said, tugging Buffy around so he could be sure Eric was getting a full view of just how close they were. "If your personality weren't so shitty, maybe a nice little piece like this would come begging for it from you instead of me."

Eric didn't bother with any witty comebacks, he just launched himself at Rasul with a snarl. Buffy stumbled back from a last second shove by Rasul, her back bumping into another person. She spared them a quick glance just before she got ready to throw her crappy plan out the window and go pull the fighting idiots apart.

Purple eyes and a bald head completely erased any thought of interfering. If he'd been wearing silks and gold Buffy would've thought somebody had just rubbed the lamp in the porn version of Arabian Nights.

"You are the sexiest jinni ever," she breathed, unable to stop staring despite the growls and sound of blows behind her.

The brilliant smile the mystery man gave her left her feeling a little light-headed and she shook her head slightly, forcing herself to step away before she started making inappropriate wishes.

"Maybe you should go now," Sexy Jinni said, tone apologetic and eyes kind. "This isn't really a good place for you to be."

Buffy gave a mute nod, eyes ticking over to the two vampires who'd stopped fighting to glare in unison at the bald Adonis next to her. Her sharp eyes caught the glint of diamonds disappearing into Eric's jacket. Satisfied that this was as good as her sad little plan was going to get, Buffy left the same way she'd come, forcing herself not to tug on the tight skirt as she felt eyes burning a hole in her back.

* * *

><p>After retrieving her hastily stashed bag from a nearby alley (and sending up a quick, thankful prayer that a lucky hobo hadn't made off with it), Buffy changed back into her comfy fighting clothes and rearmed herself.<p>

Hightailing it back to the place she'd picked out to watch the back of the monastery from, there was nothing left to distract her from thinking about the debacle of a few minutes ago. Every embarrassing moment was perfectly preserved in her memory for replay and review.

That could've gone better…

Damn Hadley and her sticky fingers! And Eric for making her all crazy! And for looking so good in his 007 wear! And Rasul for taking every opportunity to make things worse! And Porn Jinni for...

And Porn Jinni… for…

Mmm… Porn Jinni…

She tripped over a random trash can lid and shook her head. Best not to think about the bald guy. Especially since she was still set on making things work with Eric. She'd have her hands full enough trying to fix things after what just happened - no need to throw in new sexy stranger complications.

She climbed the fire escape of the building that she'd planned to watch from during her trip with Rasul a few days ago. What _hadn't_ been part of the plan was the vampire already hanging out in her spying space. Buffy blinked stupidly at the blond leaning against an air conditioning unit for a moment before recognition set in.

"Pam?!"

Dressed in a pair of jeans and a sweater, her hair pulled back in a neat bun, it was no wonder it took Buffy a moment to recognize her. The Stepford Wife look had been replaced by something a little more war savvy.

"You are an idiot."

"Good to see you, too…" Buffy pouted, hauling herself the rest of the way onto the roof.

"I warned you not to take his feelings lightly."

Buffy stilled, her stance a little stiff and wary as she realized this wasn't going to be a friendly chat. Pam's bluntness was nothing new, but the dangerous undertone and the stony glint her eyes were. Pam was a friend, but when push came to shove Buffy had no doubt that the vampire's loyalty was with Eric – and if she felt like Buffy had wronged him…

And, who was she kidding, she kinda had.

"I know…"

"Yet you did anyway. You discarded the warning I gave and the truth which you knew."

"I know, I-"

"He risked his life for you. His position as Sherriff."

"Pam, I know, I-"

"And more importantly, his heart. He-"

"Will you shut up! I already did the whole guilt-trip and soul search-y thing! I'm in love with him and I plan on fixing stuff as soon as I can stop screwing it up!"

"Oh… Well, that's fine then," Pam said haltingly. "Although, while pointing out the error of your recent actions was my intention, scaring you into doing something you don't truly feel isn't my wish."

Buffy gave a light snort. "I'm _not_ scared of you."

"So you just _happened _to decide to repair the romantic damage you caused at the same time I almost threaten you to do exactly that?" Pam asked, eyebrow raised in disbelief.

"Well, yeah, actually. Do you actually think I'd just jump on the relationship wagon because you- Wait, who's _that_?" Buffy asked, momentarily derailed by the vampire she just noticed melting off to her right.

"More evidence of your idiocy."

"Hey! Enough with the name calling!"

"That is an uninvited representative from Nevada."

Buffy looked at her blackly.

Pam gave a long suffering sigh. "Where a certain Victor Madden is located and almost certainly still looking for you."

"Ohhhh…" Buffy said with a slight grimace. "He's still worked up about the window thing, huh?"

"Apparently so."

"So, when this guy –or, er, girl, it's kinda hard to tell now – doesn't show up with the dirt on whether I was here or not, isn't that going to throw up some red flags?"

"If the battle happens as planned, hopefully Madden will assume his spy was just a casualty."

Buffy made a doubtful face but before she could argue the fact further, the sound of breaking glass across the street drew their attention.

Running to the edge of the building, Buffy was able to catch sight of the object still flying through the air, having busted out one of the small upper windows in the monastery. It hit the ground with a muted squelch she could just make out from this distance and rolled lopsidedly over the lawn before coming to a stop. Just as Buffy had IDed the mystery item as a head sporting some dreadlocks, a lion sauntered out of the shadows and - in a moment that would forever be etched in Buffy's mind - picked it up in its mouth, like a dog with a tennis ball, and loped off into the dark.

"Well, I guess that means the war's still on then…"

"Indeed, I guess that would be our signal to join the fray," Pam said, fangs on display as she grinned in a way that was _way_ too happy about having just witnessed a flying head.

She vaulted over the side of the building, running for the monastery before Buffy could get a word out. Resigning herself to becoming part of this fight, Buffy followed after with a sigh.

* * *

><p>While Buffy lucked out by dodging the lion and his chew-toy head on the way in, her little bit of thankfulness was obliterated by what she found inside the monastery. Everywhere she looked was complete chaos – blood slicked floors, gross melty body parts, random animals, giant axe wielding guys bursting through freaking walls like the Kool-aid man-<p>

"Oh, hey Bert!" Buffy gave a little wave to Sophie-Anne's bodyguard.

With a short nod of recognition, he dove back into the fray.

Buffy pulled out Mr. Pointy and stuck close to the wall, not really eager to jump in swinging. Yeah, okay, so she was a crappy foot-soldier. But she was working on changing her vampire prejudice! She hadn't been trying so hard to treat them more equally just to throw it out the window and kill them all willy-nilly because-

She blinked down at the stake protruding from the vampire's chest in front of her.

"Huh, when did I do that?"

She pulled it out with a squelch and watched one of Threadgills guy's hit the floor. Well, she couldn't do much about pure instinct could she? Anyway, where was she…

Oh yeah! She couldn't just start killing vamps all willy-nilly because her boss said "sic 'em", could she? That would be a total step backwards in the evolution of new Equality-for-all-Vamps Buffy.

She sighed as she saw Threadgill's side-kick with the bad hair-cut and sword sneaking up behind Sophie-Anne.

On the other hand… She _really_ didn't want to lose her job. And a dead boss kinda guaranteed that.

She gave her stake a twirl and started toward them, only to stop again a second later when Eric came barreling out of nowhere with a sword of his own, taking on Bad Hair himself. He obviously had _no_ reservations about the willy-nilly killing. He was grinning broadly, fangs displayed proudly as he dodged and swung.

"Why am I not surprised," she muttered, unable to stifle a smile despite herself.

As she watched though, thoughts equally gooey and lusty, she spotted another vampire sneaking up behind Eric, whose attention was squarely focused on his fight with sword wielding maniac chick.

"Oh, crap!"

Buffy took off, dodging fights and leaping bodies until she hit a puddle of blood and slid right between Eric and his sneaky attacker. She blocked the downward strike with her hastily pulled knife, not realizing until the blade of the axe was right in front of her face that the weapon was very, very familiar.

"That's not yours," she growled, pushing back in a sudden fit of anger.

She might not have really liked either of the big, burly Bert brothers, but knowing that the only way they'd give up one of their precious axes was literally over their dead bodies (or, _permanently_ dead bodies anyway) and what it meant that this random vamp had one… Well, it really, really pissed her off.

She kicked out with her right foot while twisting her knife and grabbing the vampire's arm that was holding the axe and yanking. Doubled over, he lost the grip on his weapon as she introduced Mr. Pointy to his exposed back. She scooped up the huge axe and gave the body a vindictive kick before turning back to where Eric had been fighting a moment ago – only to find him staring down at her from only about a foot away.

"Uh, hi there," she said, giving an awkward little wave with her new axe. "Fancy seeing you here. At this party. And war. Kinda like your favorite mix ever, huh? I'm just… here. You know, not following you or anything, just… fighting."

She bit her tongue to stop the babble insanity as Eric continued to stare at her, his expression a little glazed and freaked out.

"Uh, are you okay?" Buffy asked, getting worried and checking him over with her eyes for any blood that might be his.

"Why… Why would you do that?" His voice was rough and he still looked a little dazed, but at least he was focusing on her now.

Her relief lasted only a second as she shot a panicked look at the melting figure behind her.

"Oh crap, was he one of our guys?! He had one of the Bert's axes, so I thought he'd killed-"

"He did," Eric interrupted, still looking wigged. "I mean… You stepped in- You- I r_emember…_"

"Uhhh, how about we try using full sentences? Because this thing you've got going with the random, incomplete phrases isn't really working for me."

"You saved my life!" He blurted.

"Well, yeah, I guess. Why do you look so surprised? Like I was just going to stand there and let him axe you in the back? Jeez, I mean I know we haven't exactly seen eye to eye lately, but-"

Her words were cut off as he was suddenly right in her personal bubble, large hands gripping her upper arms and giving her a shake.

"You were stabbed!"

"What?" Buffy asked, looking down at herself in confusion. "No, I wasn't..."

"You stepped right in the path of that sword and let him stab you! Why would you do that?!"

He punctuated each sentence with another harsh shake.

"What are you-"

"I remember! L.A.! You- _Why?"_

He shook her again and her irritation at being manhandled overrode her brain to mouth barrier.

"Because I love you, you giant idiot!" Buffy burst out in frustration, pushing him back and dislodging his grip on her. "I'm spazzy and crazy and I have all kinds of issues, but, damn it, I love you! I'm not going to let anybody stab you if I can stop it! That's like, a top rule of love or something!"

There was a beat of wide-eyed silence from both of them before Buffy slapped a hand over her mouth with a horrified squeak. So caught up in her moment of verbal diarrhea, she didn't notice Rasul standing only ten feet away.

* * *

><p>Eric stared down at Buffy, wondering for one wild moment if the tight feeling in his chest might actually kick-start his long silent heart.<p>

The past few days had been, well, miserable, really. On the way back from his foolish trip to Kentucky, he'd come to the decision that this dalliance with Buffy had run its course. He'd gotten too involved, let it go on too long, it was time to step back and let it end.

The thought that somewhere along the line his game of cat and mouse had become serious – that Buffy had gone from being a curiosity, a possible possession, a beautiful lover, to something much, much more – and that it was now entirely possible that he cared more for her than she did for him… Well, it was a humbling realization and not one that he'd dealt well with. He'd cut off all contact – ignored her calls, closed off what was left of their bond, resisted the temptation to go to see her when he'd gotten into the city.

His anticipation of possibly seeing her that evening had sparked a mental battle of wills, though. He second guessed every encounter, replaying their meetings on a mind numbing loop of insanity. He'd finally come to the conclusion that there was no way his feelings could be completely one-sided, that maybe he should give her the benefit of the doubt and speak to her that evening, when he came across the sight of her with Rasul in front of the monastery.

That had been it for him. Even after receiving the bracelet from the guard in their altercation and realizing that it had all been an act hadn't stopped the bars from slamming down on any more thoughts that this had been anything more than a game to her. He'd been to her exactly what he'd _intended_ her to be to him – a wonderful distraction; a bit of fun; a cure for boredom.

The thought stung far more than it should have and he took it out on those around him after the fighting began. He was ready for it to be over, to get back to the way things had been before _her_, but then… Seeing her there, blocking that axe meant for him…

The memories were overwhelming in their sudden arrival and unadulterated strangeness, but he shoved the pin-wheeling images of tentacles and dragons and fiery landscapes to the back of his mind to be analyzed later. Instead, he focused on that one clear memory of her standing between him and one of the strongest beings that existed. Buffy, slight and blond and human, putting his life above hers.

And then, to top it all off, she said she-

"Okay, I didn't really mean to just blurt that out," Buffy mumbled from behind her hand.

"You love me…" He said numbly.

Buffy dropped her hand and shifted her feet awkwardly.

"Okay, so this probably isn't really the time," she said, pausing to stake a vampire that jumped at her from behind. "But, I guess we're doing this. I know I'm messed up, alright? I mean, I'll probably try to push you away twice as much as I try to pull you close. I'll freak and make you crazy and I'm probably not worth half the headaches I'll give you but-"

Then he was kissing her.

"You love me," he murmured against her lips before kissing her again.

"Mmm hmmm," she hummed, hands wrapped in the lapels of his jacket.

"I hardly think this is the time for that," the Queen's irritated voice came from the left.

Buffy's hand shot out, lips never leaving his as her stake sailed through the air, landing with a wet thump in Threadgill's chest, who'd been moving up behind Sophie-Anne.

"Oh, well then," the Queen said with a glance as her now permanently deceased husband. "Carry on."

Eric grinned and pulled his mouth from hers, letting his lips wander down her neck.

"I love you, too, you insane, strange little human."

Buffy gave a gasping laugh. "Flattering. And no biting."

With a firm grip on his hair, she pulled his lips back to hers, kissing him again before pulling back and looking at him seriously.

"So, you're okay that I'm strange and insane, but what about the human part? If I'm with you I'll never go out, get married, have kids. I won't ever have a normal life. Does that bother you?"

He paused, knowing his answer wasn't one that would be generally thought of as acceptable. Looking at her solemn eyes, he decided to just be honest.

"I only care that you're mine."

Proving that his earlier assessment of her sanity was spot on, she broke into a wide smile.

* * *

><p>"That's exactly what I wanted to hear," she said, grabbing his arm and tugging him away from the fight that was dying down now that the King was dead. "Now, wasn't there a bedroom around here somewhere…"<p>

Victor Madden sat his phone back on his desk softly, smoothing his hand over the papers in front of him lightly and straightening his pen so it was exactly vertical with the pages.

Then he overturned the whole desk with a roar, sending it smashing into the far wall and causing his original Dali to crash to the floor. He didn't give it a second glance as he stalked by it, passing his silent, cringing secretary and leaving the building.

The Vegas night was cool and bright with artificial light, a veritable carnival of color and sound. It usually amused him, even though he'd seen it every night for decades – the wealth and loss, the excitement and depression, the pureness of the excitement and wickedness of the darkest sins – it was an unending source of entertainment. But tonight his mind was elsewhere.

His search for "Summer" was becoming a real annoyance. Not only had his contact in Texas had nothing to report – apparently none of Stan's men had made it back from checking the validity of the rumor of her whereabouts in Kentucky – but Calhoun hadn't checked in from Louisiana either. He'd been trying to keep his search under Felipe's radar by letting others do the leg work, but it seemed if he wanted anything done right he'd have to do it himself…

Distracted as he was by his thoughts and plans on tracking down "Summer", he didn't realize he was being followed until he was almost to his car. With an annoyed sigh, he spun on his heel to face his stalker.

"I should warn you, I'm in no mood for games this evening. If you have something you wish to discuss, come out and say so. Otherwise I'll be killing you in about seven seconds."

His internal countdown was thrown off course by pure shock when a familiar figure stepped out of the shadows.

"Rhea…"

He didn't know the local witch well, they'd only met on a handful of occasions (the most recent actually only a week ago, when he'd approached her about what she'd need to track down "Summer"), he knew her well enough to know that something was seriously wrong. Her steps were stilted and jerky, hair in windblown mess and the bitter scent of magic that usually clung to her was… _tainted_, somehow - darker and muskier. He took an instinctual step back before he could stop himself.

"Victor Madden."

And wasn't _that_ eight kinds of fucked up… Her usual rusty voice had been replaced by a layer of several voices, echoing and making his ears itch oddly. The look on her face had been blank to this point, but for a second he saw a glimpse of pure terror – the real Rhea peeking through, he assumed.

"And you would be?"

"The Wolf," one voice said.

"The Ram," another overlapped.

"The Hart," a final added on top.

A spike of fear went through him, but along with it was excitement and curiosity. The legendary war was of course known to him, but it had been quite a bit before his time. He'd always wondered if the tales were exaggerated…

"I was under the impression you were barred from this world."

"The one you seek has cracked the wall. We cannot come through. Yet."

"The one I seek?" Victor asked, his fear and excitement sharpening into something new.

"Buffy Summers. The Slayer. You were in this witches mind, questioning ways to find her. We have that same goal."

"Buffy Summers," he hissed, the name tasting right in his mouth. So _that _was the bitch's real name.

"She is above you," the intoned in unison.

"She's _not_," he growled, forgetting himself for a moment and taking a menacing step forward. "She's just one girl."

"One girl with great power. If you find her you will not come out the victor," they said. "Not without our help."

His eyes narrowed in suspicion, but he couldn't deny his interest either. To believe the stories of the past, the power of the Wolf, Ram and Hart was incredible. To form an alliance with them… Finding Sum- _Buffy_ and giving her what she had coming to her was only a start. With that kind of backing he'd be able to move up his plans to overthrow that fool Felipe…

"What kind of 'help' would you be offering exactly? You said you can't come through…"

"We can't. But we can infuse you with our power to meet our goals."

"Like you've 'infused' Rhea?" Victor snorted, catching another glimpse of the terrified woman beneath. "You'll excuse me if I'll pass at being your puppet. Doesn't look like she's having much fun."

"You would not be like this. She was resistant to our wishes; we were forced to take more extreme steps. You would simply be imbued with our power. As long as you stick to your end of the bargain then there would be no problem."

"And what exactly would be _my _end of this bargain?"

"Find Buffy Summers," the layered voice said. "And force her to tell you how to fully release us into this dimension."


End file.
